The Legend of Zaden: Morrowind
by ParadoxBattleZone
Summary: First book of three. This tells the story of Zaden, someone thrust into the strange, new world of Vvardenfell, where he finds that he is to fulfill an age old prophesy. Loosely based off the game "Morrowind". All copyrights go to Bethesda.
1. Awakening

**WARNING:**

If you are reading this, that mean you are reading this story in the midst of its re-re-rewriting. All chapters beyond this point have yet to be changed and will not reflect necessarily the quality of this and previous chapters. Proceed forward at your own caution.

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**THE LEGEND OF ZADEN: MORROWIND**

Chapter 1: Awakening

It was like a nightmare... And yet it felt so real...

I awoke flat upon my back. Immediately my face and eyes were pelted with stinging sand. Somehow I had awoken the center of a fierce sandstorm. I had not idea where I was, how I got here, or _why _I was here. I slowly sat up to make a quick assessment of my surroundings... there were none to speak of. The air was choked so full of sand I could not see past ten feet in any direction. I immediately stood up and my first instinct was to run. It did not matter to me in what direction I went. Wherever the hell I was, I somehow knew one thing for certain... I had to get out of this place and fast.

Call it intuition, but as I ran blind, I had the sneaking suspicion that I was being followed, but due to the storm, I could not see who... or what…

I continued to run with no sense of direction for what seemed like an eternity. I quickly began to lose any hope of making out of this alive. It was as if this place was sucking from me my will to live. Suddenly, a shadow appeared before me. It was a huge shadow, blocking out what little sun bled through the storm above me. I continued forward and a solid object finally made an appearance.

It was a single column of stone, carved into the shape of an alter. It seemed to stand alone in the sand. I wondered for what seemed the longest time what a lone alter was doing in the middle of this hell. I then heard footsteps from behind. Whipping around, ready to defend myself, there stood a single man. In appearance, he looked to be like any average Imperial. He looked to be of no harm. In fact, he looked absolutely calm, strange given the surroundings.

"Who are you?" I asked him.

"A messenger," he responded.

"Of what?"

As soon as I asked, his eyes shifted from a light blue to a pitch black, and an evil smirk materialized on his face. "A messenger... of your death... and this alter shall bear your slaughter."

Before I could even register what he had said, he had already cast a summoning spell. I was immediately surrounded on all sides by ugly Dremora: tall, black skinned, human-like beings, clad in demonic black armor. Immediately, the two to my left and right grabbed me by my arms and dragged my toward the alter. I struggled and attempted to break free, but they were just too strong.

They tossed me onto the altar's hard, flat surface, holding my arms down. The other two Demora quickly pinned down my legs. No amount of struggling could get me loose of their grasp. I screamed for them to let me go, but as hard as I tried my voice made no sound. I was deafened.

I then felt the presence of another... a _powerful_ other. A new, dark figure appeared, leaning over the alter, staring at me with piercing red eyes... laughing at me. He then held out his right hand inches above my face and summoned a silver knife.

"With this," said his dark voice, "your life shall end."

He raised the knife high over his head, and with one powerful stab, I watched as the knife plunged downward and sunk right into my chest. It was unlike any pain I've ever endured. I shut my eyes, screaming a final deafened plea for help.

This had to be the end.

Suddenly a clap of thunder boomed through the air, and in an instant, the pain vanished. I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see the lifeless eyes of the knife's wielder. There was now nothing and no one. The sandstorms had vanished, revealing a twilight sky above, twinkling with millions of stars, the red and white moon both full. A gentle, warm rain came down from the cloudless sky, healing my wounds on contact. I shot up from the alter and darted my head from left to right. I was now in the center of a pleasant dell, surrounded on all sides by fertile grass, flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and to my right was a tiny pond... where a beautiful woman stood on its surface.

This woman was, for lack of better description... perfect. She, in many ways, resembled a Dark Elf: dark blue skin, blood red eyes, and long pointed ears. Her hair was snow white and hung down to her waist, flowing in an unknown breeze. She wore a sky-blue robe that seemed to illuminate in the dark. Her beauty... was _so_ perfect, it was hard to put into words. In fact it was impossible to put into words, for when I opened my mouth to speak... I was speechless.

She smiled. With perfect grace, she walked across the water's surface to its edge, stepped onto solid ground, and approached me. Then, with a voice so sweet that it could bring the darkest of souls into light, she spoke these words:

The tasks you shall undertake.

The burden of The Gods.

An excursion of the faithful.

The uncovering of Dawn

The wielding of divine power.

Fear not, for I am watchful.

Many fall, but one remains.

-o0o-

I awoke on a hard wooden floor in a dark room, surrounded by pitch black air. The air was thick with the smells of cur wood and salt. I slowly rose to my feet, only to be struck with an incredible headache. It felt as if my head had been struck by a mule. I pressed my fingers against my temples in an attempt to soothe the pain but it did me no good.

I was then greeted by a friendly sounding voice from the darkness. "Hey, are you all right?" I quickly turned to see who it was, and I was met by a Dark Elf (or Dunmer), no taller than myself. He wore rags for clothes and his right eye was missing, a black eye patch lay over the empty socket. "I said 'Are you all right?'" he repeated. I was still disorientated from the splitting headache, but after a few seconds, I was able to respond.

"Yes, I am okay." My voice was shaky. I barely had enough strength to remain standing.

"Good," he responded. "Not even last night's storm could wake you. You made worried moans as you slept. You were frightening the others."

Others?

I looked around, doing another quick assessment of my surrounds. From what little I could see, I could tell I in a small room. Its walls, floor, and ceiling all made from dock planks, an odor of sawdust also lingering in the air. A single lamp suspended from the center of the ceiling and bled dim light across the room, barely enough light to see. Around me were crates, woven baskets, cloth sacks, blankets, and various other random items.

Then, I noticed something else. Forcing my eyes to adjust to the dark room, I peered into the darkness, and figures began to appear. I then realized that there were others in the room apart from the Dark Elf and I. There were about twenty others.

"Wha... Wha... What is going...?" My body was so drained, I could not form coherent sentences. The Dark Elf stopped me.

"Easy now," he said, "you need to build up your strength. Please, lie down."

I turn around to see a row of crates with a few blankets stretched across them, forming a makeshift bed. I sat down, allowing myself to recover from everything that afflicted me. My eyes finally were fully adjusted and I was now finally able to clearly see.

In the room with me was the one eyed Dark Elf and about eighteen others, all ranging in race. There were Argonians (the lizard people of Black Marsh), Khajiits (the cat people of Elsweyr), Orcs, and humans: Imperial and Redguard. They all sat on top of crates, wearing clothing made from cloth sacks. Then, I realized something I did not at first: this room was swaying... swaying back and forth, almost rhythmically.

I looked back to the one-eyed Dark Elf. "Where am I?" I managed asked him.

"You are on a boat," he responded, "somewhere on the Eastern seas. They say we will reach Vvardenfell in another day."

Morrowind?! Morrowind was thousands of miles away from my home in Cyrodiil! What in Oblivion was I going there for! What was I doing here?! I wanted to yell, but I simply did not have the strength.

The Dark Elf continued, "We are all refuges here, looking for a new life in Morrowind. But, of course, you already know this... right?"

I shook my head. "No. I… I do not know why I am here."

"Truly? That is very odd... Though, I must admit, your appearance onto this ship was odd as well... Do you remember that at least?" I shook my head. "Under heavy guard, you were brought aboard, your unconscious body slung over a guard's shoulder."

"What kind of guards?" I asked.

"I do not know. I can only say that the insignia they shared was that of a coat of arms with two swords crossed in the center. Anyway, the guards were nothing but authoritative, dictating very direct orders to have you on this boat."

All of this was going too fast for me, too much was going for me to contemplate in my weakened state. I needed to rest. I laid down across the crate bed and started to drift off, watching the oil lamp gently rock back and forth. As sleep fell over me, I overheard the conversation of an Orc, with his deep, emphasizing voice, and an Argonian, with an eerie smoothness in his voice.

"So," said the Orc, "how long until we reach Vvardenfell?"

"I overheard the guards saying about one more day," the Argonian replied.

The Orc, relieved to hear this, sounded almost exited. "Well it is about damn time. I got family waiting for me and I do not wish to prolong it. Same with you?"

"Well... it could be said that I have 'family' waiting."

"Oh, I get your meaning. So what work you looking forward to? Legal or not?"

"What is it to _you_, Orc?"

"Maybe I want in, make some profit for myself."

"No deal," responded the Argonian. "In my line of work, you would not live past initiation."

"Any why not?" questioned the Orc.

"Trust me, you would be killed before you even stepped foot on the welcome mat."

"Ok, fine" the Orc dismissed. "Jeez... Just looking to pocket a few extra drakes is all."

"Fear not, ye of green skin. There is always money to be made in Morrowind. You just need to know where to look. The way I view it, it is a matter of three things: will, connections, and..."

I fell asleep before hearing the last one.

Probably loyalty.


	2. The Hold

Chapter 2: The Hold

I awoke from my sleep feeling revitalized, with a renewed source of energy. I rose from my "bed" with great enthusiasm, only to have it dampened with the realization of where I was. I was still in the dark, musty room of the ship, filled with refuges, aboard a boat that shipped me to my destiny.

"Hey, your up!" A familiar voice sounded. It was the Dark Elf, sitting in the darkest corner of the room with another. The two sat in a small nook behind the many crates along the opposite wall. I got up from the "bed" and joined him, finding a comfortable spot in the nook, my back resting against a crate. I caught a glance of the other that had joined the Dark Elf. It was the Argonian I overheard as I slipped off into sleep.

I greeted the Argonian with a simple "Hello."

He did not respond, not even with a glance.

"I was beginning to thing that you would never wake," said the Dark Elf. "When the guards came down with provisions about an hour ago, not even the clatter they caused could wake you."

"Provisions?" I asked. "Are there any left? I feel starved."

"Here," said the Dark Elf, as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a metal flask. "All the food has been eaten, but I was able to save this, in the event of your waking. It is not food, I admit, but it is something."

I took the flask from the Dark Elf's hand, unscrewed the cap and smelled the opening. It reeked of alcohol, just what I needed. I brought the flask to my lips, took a small sip, and swallowed.

It had to be, without a doubt, the worst drink I have ever tasted. Without any flavor, it only succeeded in burning a hole in my throat.

"Damn!" I said, "This is the worst thing I have ever tasted."

The Dark Elf nodded his head and grined. "That stuff is only good for two things: killing rodents and killing one's intelligence."

"Good enough for me," I responded, and I took a huge swig from the flask. It burned worse then before, but I could feel myself becoming more and more relaxed by the second. "Hey, Dark Elf," I said, "how long have I been out this time?"

"Twelve hours," he replied, "and I make no exaggeration. And also, if you are wondering, my name is Jiub. I would tell you the Argonian's name, but he keeps to himself and I will respect his wish to do so."

I looked to the Argonian. He sat silently, looking into the wood floor before him. I offered him the flask, and immediately, he snatched it from my hands, unscrewed the cap, downed every last drop, and swallowed it in one gulp.

"Damn it!" said Jiub, "That was the very last of it! Now we have nothing to eat or drink!"

Then, to the shock of the us both, the Argonian rose to his feet. "I will get you more," he whispered, then walked strait to the door on the opposite side of the room. He knocked three times and a small letter slot shot open a second later.

"What do you want?" asked a guard from the other side.

"Food and drink," whispered the Argonian.

"Provisions were brought down an hour ago."

"They are all gone."

"Not my problem," rudely replied the guard, and he slammed the letter slot shut.

The Argonian turned back to us. "It would seem that he is not going to comply with our request," he said.

"Make him comply," responded Jiub. "Do whatever you see fit."

This could not end well.

The Argonian turned back to the door and knocked once again. The slot opened.

"You again?" said the guard. "Look, Argonian, I already told you 'No.'"

"I am a slow learner," responded the Argonian, clearly attempting to antagonize the guard.

"Then I shall beat the lesson into your face!" replied the guard.

The letter slot slammed shut and a second later the door opened. An Imperial Legion guard, clad head to toe in steel armor, appeared from the other side with a steel broadsword hung on his waist.

"Argonian!" I yelled. "He is too much! Stand down!"

"No," he responded, "this will be easy."

"A bold statement," said the guard. "It is a shame that it will be your last!"

The guard reached for the hilt of his sword, but before he could lay one finger on it, the Argonian struck. With a power swipe across his face, his sharp claws cut three deep wounds across his left cheek. As he screamed in pain and reached to cover his wounds, the Argonian swiped both the hilt of his sword and a dagger from his belt. He threw the sword aside and pressed the blade of the knife against the guard's neck.

He had nowhere to go now.

The guard lifted his hands over his head in a show of defeat. "Please," he said, "I will do anything, just do not kill me!"  
"Food and drink," responded the Argonian. "Now!"

The guard, for fear of his life, nodded his head in response, turned, and ran upstairs to get more provisions. That Argonian sure did a heck of a job scarring him, for he stumbled twice as he sprinted up the steps. Once the guard was out of sight, the Argonian turned back to Jiub and I. "Catch," he said, and he tossed the knife through the air, landing it on my lap. Lucky for me, it landed handle down.

The knife was, surprisingly, of good quality. In reality, it was more of a dagger. Made of silver, a material known to harm spirits and ghosts, it guaranteed that anything I would encounter would be harmed by it's edge.

"Thank you," I said to the Argonian, "but why give it to me?"

With a whisper, he responded, "I have a feeling that you will need it more then I." I had no idea what he meant by that, but after seeing him overpower that guard with such little effort, I refrained from asking further. With that, I slipped the dagger beneath my shirt, tucking it away from sight.  
The guard returned moments later, lugging four heavy wooden crates in his arms. He quickly dropped them to the floor, exclaimed "Here! Take it!" then ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I could see the fear in his eyes.

Jiub stood up and opened the crates. Each was full of food: one contained loaves of bread, another salted meats, another wheels of cheese, and the last held green glass jugs of water. Jiub passed out every single piece of food and every jug of water to the other refugees. Once everyone had a portion of each, he returned to the nook where the Argonian and I sat. He handed us each a cut of meat and some bread.

"That was a very generous thing you did, Argonian..." I said, "thought I must admit that the handling of the guard could have been done with less confrontation."

"Ends justify means," replied the Argonian. "Would you rather I killed him?"

"No, but-"

"So be silent and be thankful that I even wasted my time."

"You could, in the least, take some sort of pride in your choice?" I asked.

"What for? I was only getting food for myself. I did not ask for him to bring so much."

"So this entire time, you only intent was to feed yourself?!"

He nodded, taking a bite from a cut of salted pork.

I sighed, deciding to no longer argue with him. He was difficult to get through, and I no longer possessed the will to persevere. So, I sat quietly, eating the food that was so obtained by the Argonian. All food items were of good quality, much to the delight of the refugees and I.

As we ate, I decided to strike conversation. "What brings you to Morrowind, Dark Elf?" I asked.

He sat silent for a moment, and then finally responded with a question. "Have you ever felt the need to leave behind all you ever had, to start anew?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Can not say that I have ever thought such things," I replied. "Why do you ask? Is it the grind of tedious living that brings you to such a drastic decision... or do you run from your past?"

Jiub lowered his head, telling without words that his decision was by cause of the latter. "Many events from my past cause me torment, even to this day. Many things I regret... It seems as if my entire life up until now has been nothing but disappointment. The path my life was leading to could only lead to a premature death, the choices I have made... Theft, arson, vandalism, even… murder, all for a cause I did not believe in."

"And what cause be that?" I asked.

Jiub shook his head. "I have spoken too much. Let some of my past remain secret," he said.

"So you travel to Morrowind for salvation?" I asked.

"Yes," responded Jiub with a nod. "I believe all deserve a second chance, one more chance to bring order. After that though... you deserve nothing, and if you fall back to old ways… you deserve to die."

Just then, three loud bangs sounded from the door, and a second later, a different guard walled in. He did a quick survey of the room, as if looking for something… or someone. Finally, his eyes stopped directly upon me and he pointed toward my direction from across the room.

"You, Imperial," he said. "This is where you get off."


	3. Census and Excise

Chapter 3: Census and Excise

I shot strait to my feet as the guard approached me with iron shackles in hand. He grabbed my wrists and slapped the shackles on. Instantly, I could feel the energy being drained from my body. I took a second look at the shackles. They glowed with enchantments.  
"What is the meaning of this?" I asked.

"So you don not get any idea of escaping," he replied. "Now, get moving. You are need up on deck."

"Just I?"

He nodded.

Why was I the only one to be taken off? Before I could even ask, the guard had already grabbed me by the neck and lead me out of the room. He pushed me toward the stern of the ship, to a wooden step ladder that lead to the deck. "Get yourself up on deck," demanded the guard. I did so, climbing up the ladder and opening the hatch that lead to the deck. The noon sun shone directly into my eyes, nearly blinding me.

Finally stepping foot on deck, a cool sea breeze blew in from the south, washing away the humidity that lingered from below. When my eyes finally adjusted to daylight, what laid before me was a sight that nearly brought me to tears: a completely alien land. Almost nothing before me seemed familiar. To the East were towering mountains that seemed to shoot from the ground, tall evergreen trees and tall... mushroom trees. To the West, on a small peninsula was a old and decrepit lighthouse. A long plank linked the edge of the boat to land and lead to an Imperial style building complex.  
"That complex," said the guard, "is where you need to go. That will be where your release is finished and finalized." The guard then pulled out a small key from his pocket and unlocked the shackles. Once off, the enchantments instantly vanished, returning me to full strength.

Following the orders of the guards (much to my displeasure), I walked the plank to my first steps onto solid land. It was a welcome change from the ever constant sway of the ship on open water. Above the door leading into the complex was a sign, inscribed with the words "Census and Excise Bureau." Stepping inside, a long table was set up parallel to the opposite wall. Seated behind it was a old Imperial male, busily writing on a scroll of parchment with a quill and ink. As I approached, he made no attempt to look up and even _hint_ that he recognized my presence.

Finally, after I watching him write for a full three minutes, he spoke, but never looked up from his parchment. He spoke in a tone that made it _painfully_ obvious that he despised his job.

"Greetings," he said, "and let me be the first to welcome you to the island of Vvardenfell, in the providence of Morrowind. Before you are _officially_ released, you are required to answer and fill out a brief release form to verify your identity." He then laid out on the table a blank sheet of parchment, dipped his quill into his ink vial, then commenced with the questions.

"Name?" he asked.

Shit.

As if a godly force held a grudge against me, I could not, for the life of me, remember my name. I stood silent, a vacant upon my face, struggling to remember. It was to no avail.

"Name?" he repeated.

"I... can not remember," I finally replied.

In most situations, if such a phrase was spoken, you would be looked upon with bewilderment and disbelief. This man, however, much to my surprise, did not blink an eye. "Then make a name up," he responded. He must have heard it many times before.

After a few moments of thought, I determined a name, a name that would forever serve me here in Morrowind. I pretty much made it up off the top of my head. "Zaden," I finally responded. I think I had heard it in a story.

The old man quickly wrote down the name and continued with the questions. "Age?"

"Twenty eight."

"Race?"

"Imperial." Why did he not simply looked up?

"Date of birth?"

"The fifth day of summer."

"I see... meaning your sign is the Warrior?"

I nodded.

He looked up once and _only_ once to observe my physical description, then returned to his parchment to write it down: short black hair, widow's peak, brown eyes, strong build, six foot and two inches in stature, all the basic things you would come to expect. As he continued to scribble down my information, my eyes kept wandering to my left, to the heavily clad guard in the back corner. Throughout this entire ordeal, his eyes never left me. At this point, I began to feel hints of paranoia. Did he know that I had a dagger hidden away beneath the tattered shirt I wore?

Finally, the old man stopped writing. He then rolled the parchment up, tied it off, and handed it to me. "Take the door to your left, cross through the joining courtyard, into the adjacent room, and talk to Sellus Gravius and have him finish your release." Now only one simple step kept me from both freedom... and a strange new world.

I did as old man said, taking the door to the left, following the hallway down to it's end, and outside to the aforementioned courtyard. There was only one other door that led to the courtyard, so my path was fairly clear.

Entering the next room brought me to yet another guard and Sellus Gravius, an Imperial male who sat behind an oak desk, counting off stacks of gold coins. Once I took my first step inside, he lifted his head from his work.

"You must be the one everyone is talking about," he said. People were talking about me? "Please approach." I approached the desk and handed him my release forms. He quickly opened them, reviewed it's contents, then stashed it away beneath his desk.

"Well," he said, "your credentials seems to be in order and everything checks out." He then reached across the desk, grabbed my right hand, and shook it violently, saying "Congratulations, Imperial. You are now officially a citizen of the island of Vvardenfell, of the providence of Morrowind."

With what little joy that statement brought me, I forced a smile onto my face. Releasing his grasp, he then reached from behind his desk, pulled out a small leather pouch placed it directly into my hands. It was heavy and full of coins.

"What be this?" I asked.

"Money," he replied. "We are required to give all refuges that come to Vvardenfell a certain amount of money. This pouch holds exactly two thousand Septums, to help you get started on the right path."

"But two thousand septums seems like a lot to give." It was enough to buy a horse (a cheap one at that).

"True, but for one such as you, who has not clothing, supplies, weapons, or a residence, you will find that two thousand septums will be spent rather quickly."

Such reassuring words. "Very well... What can you tell me of this town?" I asked.

"Seyda Neen?" he responded. "It is most likely the worst place in all of Vvardenfell. Aside from a small handful of shops and inns, there is not much else in this swamp."

I swear, it was as if they _intended_ to hire the most depressing people to greet you. "Well what would you suggest I do, seeing as I am unfamiliar to this land."

Sellus Gravius thought for a brief second, then finally responded, "I would suggest that you first off purchase better clothing, purchase some personal supplies, then travel, on foot or by transport, to Balmora, a city north of here. The city is a haven for refugees such as yourself. You are guaranteed to find work there."

Finally, some _positive_ words. Now, with a clear motive, I thanked Sellus Gravius for his support, pocketed my thousand septums, and walked out the next doorway.

I was finally free.


	4. Seyda Neen

Chapter 4: Seyda Neen

With my first steps outside into Seyda Neen, into this island of Vvardenfell, I was both filled with feelings of excitement and fear: excited to be in a new land, to experience new thing, and fearful for the exact same reasons.

I looked around and observed Seyda Neen. Sellus Gravius was correct... there was not much to take in. I could count off the number of buildings in this town with my own two hands. With a grand total of nine, I began to wonder if Seyda Neen even qualified as a "town". There was a inn/restaurant (Seyda Neen Inn), a general store (Arrille's Trade House), four residential homes, and three abandoned houses, their windows boarded up, their walls overgrown with vines, and crumbling foundation.

But I was not here to pass judgment on the town's poor state of condition. I had a plan: to get situated, then leave for Balmoraas soon as possible. I decided that the first that needed to be done was to visit the trade house for clothes and supplies. Walking inside, a long counter stretched the entire length of the store. There seemed to be three main sections of the counter, each one dealing with a certain type of good: the left most section displayed all clothing items, the middle section brandished a selection of weapons, and the right most section held all food related provisions.

A single Altmer, or "High Elf" (tall, golden-skinned elves), stood behind the counter, well dressed in silk woven shirt and pants. I presumed that he was Arrille.

High Elves, as their name implies, all think very highly of themselves, going so far as to boldly claim that their race is somehow "more superior" then all others. All High Elves seemed to speak in a snobbish, diminutive tone when speaking to other races, to imply their "civilized stature." They all act so self-assured and so beside themselves... It was a shock that their race had not already been driven to extinction due to "self imposed ass kicking."

Much to my dismay (and lack of surprise), this High Elf was no different.

"Ah," he snobbishly said, finally noticing me, "what have we here? An Imperial, and fresh off the refugee boat, no doubt?" Was it that obvious? "What do you want?" He looked down on me, both figuratively and literally (High Elves _are_ very tall).

I, resisting the urge to punch him right then, responded "I am in need of clothing, arms, and provisions."

He gave a slight, smug chuckle, responding "I am... sure you do." What an ass. "You may search the store, but be mindful that I will be observing you. Do not even attempt to steal from my store, or I'll burn you to a crisp."

Did I mention that High Elves are skilled in offensive magic? Yet _another_ thing they freely boast.

I walked to the clothing section of the counter and scanned my eyes over the vast number of clothing options that were on display. The choices were great in number: robes, shirts, and pants of all colors, sizes, shapes, and materials. After fingering through the rows of clothing options, one in particular seemed to jump out from the rows. A set of white clothes (shirt, pants, hooded robe with golden cloth belt) caught my eye, and immediately, I could not say no to them.

As I pull each white piece from the pile, Arrille commented. "That set," he said , "has been particularly hard to sell. You could actually do me a favor in purchasing the lot." Though the aspect of _helping_ him was not what I intended to do, I needed the clothes none the less. So, I placed the set of white clothing to the side and moved on to the next section of counter: weapons.

For some reason or another, I found myself skipping over the axes, bows, crossbows and spears and wandering directly to the swords. Again, in a similar fashion with the clothing, out of that was displayed, one sword in particular grabbed my attention. The sword, made of steel, was a straight edged katana, its hilt made of wood. The blade, however, was in less than adequate condition with patches of rust spotting the blade's length. Never the less, I took from the shelf the sword and the custom made back scabbard that hung next to it. Placing it on the counter atop the white clothing, I moved onto the final section for provisions.

The final section was the most varied in its selection of goods. Taking a single strapped messenger bag off a shelf, I began to fill it with supplies: cooking wear, silverware, candles, tinder, flint and steel, blankets, a pocket knife, a map of Vvardenfell, dried and salted beef links, bread, and a few skins of water.

With everything finally chosen, I brought the now _full_ messenger bag to the counter and asked Arrille "How much for all of this?"

He, who had made notice to everything I had taken, responded "One thousand septums."

Overpriced was putting it lightly.

If stripping me of half my money was not enough, he gave a slight smile when he said the value, as if he took pleasure in taking my money. I reached into the leather money pouch and slammed onto the counter ten one hundred septum pieces. As he took the gold pieces and pocketed them, I asked Arrille "Are there any good places to eat here?"

As it turns out, the restaurant/inn was, conveniently enough, adjacent to the general store. With hunger slowly building, I decided to pay the restaurant a visit and eat a _civilized_ meal for a change. Before I went, though, I first found myself a secluded section in town and made a change of wardrobe, tearing off the rags I wore and slipping on the white shirt, pants, and robe, tying the gold cloth belt around my waist, then strapping on the back-scabbard and sword. I went from lowly beggar to wealthy traveler in no more then a few minutes.

Now, better dressed, I entered the restaurant. It was of typical setup, the smells of the kitchen came wafting in from the back. The place was all but empty: the only others were a Dunmer couple who sat together. As I entered and shut the door behind me, my white clothing instantly caught the eyes of everyone in the room. To them, my appearance gave a message that said "I am wealthy and I pay well," which, needless to say, got me instant notoriety.

No more then a second after I had taken a seat by a East facing window, a pretty, young, Dunmer waitress approached, placed a menu in front of me on the table and said with a smile "Greetings, Sir. My name is Relosa and I will be your waitress for today. May I get you anything?"

She put on quite an act. Under the impression that I was a person of great wealth, she was trying her best to impress me (in hopes of a generous tip.) If only she knew that I, not a few hours earlier, was a common refugee. Though I wished to tell her of my true identity, I could not crush her spirit, so I embraced the "wealthy man" persona and answered her offer.

"Yes," I replied. "Could you tell me what types of tea you serve?"

"We have many types here, Sir," she responded, "as many as you can think of. Although we do not promote our restaurant as such, we pride ourselves as a sort of tea house."

"Well, since that be the case, please bring me a small kettle of the finest tea you have."

"Very good, Sir. Would you like anything with that, Sir?"

"Just sugar, if you would."

The girl nodded, repeated "Yes, Sir" then retreated to the kitchen to fetch my order. During her absence, I finally took time to reflect on everything that had happened. I could only remember as far back as the nightmare and waking up on that refugee boat. Past that... nothing. Like how a wave wipes the sand clean from a beach, all recollection before the nightmare was gone. How could this had happened? Perhaps-

"Here you are, Sir." The waitress returned and placed in front of me a silver platter, holding a small, copper kettle, steaming with tea, a clay mug, a small bowl of sugar, and a small dish of biscuits.

"Excuse me," I said, "but I did not order bread."

She smiled and responded "On the house, Sir. If you need anything else, do not be afraid to ask," then walked away.

It was astounding, really, what a simple change of wardrobe did for me. If I had appeared in the rags I originally had, I would have been thrown out the second I stepped in. I poured my tea, stirred two spoon fulls of sugar, and drank. When I asked for their finest tea, I got just that: the best cup of tea I' had ever drank. I spent the next hour simply sipping my tea and eating the food so gratuitously provided, watching the customers come and go. At the same time, I tried to recollect any memory from my past.

Unfortunately, I could not remember a single thing. I was able to recollect things like common knowledge. However, when I tried to remember things, such as my family, friends, and my childhood, I only drew up blanks.

After about three cups of tea, the kettle finally ran dry. When it did, I signaled the waitress and she came walking over, clearing my table.

As she cleaned, she asked "What be your name, Imperial?"

"Zaden," I responded, still trying to get use to the new name.

"I have not seen your face around here, Zaden. Are you from here or are you a traveler?"

I decided that Icould not continue lying to her any further, so I finally decided to reveal the truth. "Actually," I said, "I am neither. I reality... only two hours ago, I was a common refugee, on a boat inbound from the mainland."

The constant smile of the waitress's face disappeared quicker then a shadow in the night. "So," she said slowly, "you are not of Morrowind?"

I shook my head. "No, I am not."

In a split second, her mood turned from friendly to _hostile_. Without taking the tray with her, she turned away and stormed into the back room without saying a word. What caused this abrupt change in demeanor was a mystery to me. She then returned a few minutes later, but this time, two others were with her, both Dunmer males.

"I am afraid you are going to have to leave, Imperial," said one male.

"What is this?" I asked. "Who are you?"

"I am the owner of this restaurant," he said, "and you are going to leave, now!"

"For what reason? I have done nothing wrong."

"Leave now," he demanded, "or we shall throw you out!"

I shook my head. "I am not going anywhere-"

Just as I had finished that sentence, I was grabbed from behind by a Dunmer I had not noticed. With a tight grip, he forced me toward the door, swung it open, and literally threw me outside, throwing me flat onto my stomach. As I got back up to my feet, the Dunmer restaurant owner yelled these words:

"N'wah scum," he yelled. "We need not your kind here. Leave Seyda Need and do not return!" then slammed the door shut.

Once back on my feet, and as I brushed the dirt off my white robe, a female Imperial approached.

"Are you ok?" asked the Imperial. "I observed your quarrel from afar. I do not know what you said or did to anger those Dark Elves, but I could see flames in their eyes."

I shook my head. "I am at a loss as well," I responded. "I know not what I did either. All I remember is that when I told the waitress that I was not of Morrowind, she instantly became hostile and got those two thugs to throw me out."

The Imperial smiled and shook her head. "And that is exactly what enraged them," she said. "Because you told that you were not born in Morrowind, you instantly became 'outlander scum' or 'N'wah' in their eyes. There is nothing the Dark Elves hate more then an outlander."

"I see," I responded. As I continued to brush dirt off of me, a thought occurred, and I began to smile.

"Why are you smiling, stranger?" she asked.

"I am smiling," I said, "because they threw me out before I paid for my meal."


	5. Hui

Chapter 5: Hui

With my new history lesson fresh in mind, I decided to follow both my plan and the Dunmer's warning. It was time that I left Seyda Neen and headed off to Balmora. Reading the directional signs that dotted Seyda Neen, all pointed me to a transport system called the "Silt Strider." What that was, I knew not, but whatever it may be, I was sure that it would be better than walking.

As I headed North, following the signs, I came across the midpoint of Seyda Neen. Down the middle of this town was a small river no wider then 6 feet wide. However, the river was very deep in color, leading me to believe that the river was over 15 feet in depth. This guess was further confirmed to be true when I noticed small children fishing. They simply had the ends of their rods extended over the river with the lines lowered strait down. The only way across the river was a narrow, wooden bridge not wide enough for two people. Luckily, there was not that many people out that day, so I made it across with no problem.

When I finally reached the outer edge of town, sure enough, there was a dirt road that curved to the right, traveling up a steep hill, with a sign that said "Silt Strider." I followed the path up and looked down upon the town as I rose higher above it. More down the path, I found a wooden platform extended over a steep precipice. A large crowd had already gathered, no doubt waiting to catch a ride, so I merged with the crowd and waited for the thing to arrive. It only took a few minutes for it to show.

The "Silt Strider", as it were, was a towering beast unlike anything I have ever seen. Its body resembled that of a tick and was about twenty feet in length. The body stood on eight, stilt like legs, each of them nearly fifty feet tall. With every step it took, the ground shook. The strider strode up to the end of the platform and halted within inches of it. On top of the strider was a wooden platform that laid eighteen by nine feet with a red cloth tarp suspended over it. An Orc (no doubt the rider of this beast) sat near the head of the silt strider with a platform laid out in front of him with several levers built into it.

The Orc who manned this beast called out, "All aboard! Silt Strider leaving for Balmora!" Soon after, everyone poured onto the back of the strider, handing off a twenty septum piece to the Orc. I hopped on the back of the beast, paid my fee, and laid down near the back, using the side rail of the platform as a head rest. The Orc waited a few minutes for everyone to get situated and seated. Finally, he then called out, "Okay! Next stop, Balmora!"

"Wait! Wait!" A hurried voice called out from the distance. I lifted my head over the platform wall to see who it was. An Argonian, dressed in a dark green robe, carrying a messenger bag similar to mine, was running full speed toward the strider. The Argonian hopped over the platform wall, quickly paid his fee, and took a seat near me. He was clearly out of breath from the way he panted. The Orc spoke again, annoyed with the sudden delay. "Okay," he said, "if there are no more distractions... let us head off!"

The driver pulled a medium sized lever placed directly in the middle of the platform. The creature let out a loud grunt and began to creep forward, making loud booms with every step. The silt strider started off slow, but slowly sped up to a moderate pace. It traveled along a dirt road heading south along the mountain's edge, following it North.

As the ride went underway, I turned to the Argonian who just rushed onto the strider. He was a young Argonian with red skin and aqua blotches formed about his eyes, traveling down along his snout, and ending near his nostrils. He robe was dirty, with many small holes located near the foot hem. There was a small hole located near his tail so he could slip it through to allow for more comfort. He was hunched over, still trying to catch his breath.

"You cut it kind of close there, Argonian," I joked.

The Argonian raised his head, revealing his large, red eyes. The Argonian smiled and nodded. "Yes," he said, "I would say so."

The Argonian spoke in a very cool, calm voice (as did all Argonians). His voice sounded fluent, each word seemingly intertwined with the next. He had no real accent to speak of: he spoke perfectly. The cool nature of his voice was soothing onto itself.

I asked the Argonian, "What be your rush? You seemed to be in quite the hurry."

The Argonian, who finally was able to breath normally, responded, "I _do_ have an explanation, but I doubt someone like _you_ would be interested."

"_I_ shall be the judge of _that_," I replied.

"You see, I, once again... have been caught up in one of my great loves."

"Ah, tis a woman you speak of. Of _that_ I know well."

He shook his head. "No, stranger, not of a woman."

"Than what?" I asked.

He paused for a moment, then finally responded "Books."

Oh wonderful, he is one of _them_.

"What be you?" I asked, " a librarian, scholar, or just the indoor type?"

He laughed at that last one. "None of the mentioned," he replied. "I am an historian, studying Morrowind's ancient histories, customs, practices, and all things related."

"I can not imaging such a career would be profitable," I said.

"Though that may be true, Imperial, I profit from my natural gift: the gift of Mage."

I was now intrigued. I had always been interested by the arts of magic. "A Mage? How good of a mage be you?" I asked.

He gave a little chuckle and asked, "Would you like to see?"

I rose from my laid back position, eager to see a demonstration, responding "Yes, I would." He then looked around him as if looking for something to use. His eyes finally laid on my sword.

"Give me your sword," he demanded. I was obviously reluctant to do so at first, but I finally relented, removing the sword from its sheath and placed it onto his open palms. He examined the sword for a moment, checking the cutting edge. He then looked to me and said, "This sword is quite dull. I believe it be due for a sharpening."

He then placed the sword flat on the wooden platform we sat on. I stared at him, wondering what is he was going to do. He outstretched his arms and took deep breaths: breathing in through the nose, breathing out through the mouth. Then, from his palms, a faint, golden light appeared. The light slowly began to grow in brightness until it seemed that the light of the sun sprouted from his palms. Hui lowered each hand onto the sword, one on the hilt, the other on the blade, and took more deep breaths. Then, the entire sword began to glow the same gold color. The light was so great, I almost had to shield my eyes. Hui took one final deep breath in and slowly released it.

The sword began to slowly dim and return to how it once was. The light disappeared, but my sword was altered. What was once a tarnished silver was now shimmering, its metallic surface reflecting the sunlight and projecting it onto the red canvas suspended above. Amazed at what happened, I grabbed the sword and examined it closer. The cutting edge was sharper then ever. I lightly ran my finger down the cutting edge and, much to my suprise, it was still enough to cut and draw blood. As I sheathed the sword back into the scabbard, I tried to bring myself to say "Thank you" to him, but I was at a loss of words. He noticed my shock and said with a smile, "You're welcome."

"What be your name, Argonian?" I asked.

"Hui," he responded. "My name is Hui."

The silt strider continued down the dirt path, heading Northwest. The landscape was littered with strange mushroom trees which grew seventy feet high in the air. The path then came across a narrow valley. A lone path was carved through the center of a large rock mass, only about twenty feet across. The walls of the gorge shot toward the skies, blocking out the sun. Across the top of the valley stretched long narrow rock bridges. This gorge was to strait, to clean, to be made by nature. By my judgment, it looked manmade.

The gorge was just wide enough to let the strider squeeze through, it slowed down to a creeping pace as it reached the gorge's entrance. Every step echoed throughout the chasm. At one point, the silt strider bumped against the walls of the gorge, huge chunks of bolder dislodged from the wall. The boulders fell a full fifty feet before they made thunderous booms as they smashed into the ground below. The strider took about ten minutes to make its way through the gorge. When it finally left the gorge, there was constructed a sight unlike anything I have ever seen.

About a quarter mile to the East was a incredible feat of construction. It was a large, pyramid shaped building with four sides. At its top, instead of converging to a point, a large, green glass dome was placed. Two large stone platforms circles the building: one at ground level, another about half way up the three hundred foot structure, support beams held it up at all corners.

I turned to Hui and asked, "What is that building?"

Hui took a quick glance and responded immediately, "Oh. That is the city of Vivec." He said it as if it was nothing to be impressed about.

As the strider continued along its route, my vantage point of the city changed. Then, another building, which look the same as the first, appeared behind it. Then another, then another, then another.

I turned to Hui, " How many of those things are there?!"

Hui responded, "There are about nine of those 'cantons', as they are called. The one closest to us is the Redoran canton, where the Redoran political house meets. But of course, you already know this."

I shook my head. "Not truly, for I am an... outlander." I looked up and about me. Every Dunmer who rode on the strider with me was already giving me an evil eye.

"Oh," said Hui, "so there is teaching to be made. You see, there are three houses: Redoran, Hlaalu, and Telvanni, each of them have their own house. There is also the Arena canton, The Foreign Quarter, where foreign affairs are settled, St. Delyn, St. Olms, The Temple, and The Palace Canton, where Lord Vivec lives."

"Lord Vivec?" I questioned. The Dunmer _really _did not like that comment. Only later would I find out why.

Hui responded, "Allow me to explain. The main religion of the Dunmer, the 'Dark Elves', is The Almsivi, or simply 'The Tribunal'. The Tribunal worships three demigods: Sotha Sil, Almalexia, and Vivec. Once, they were all prolific figures, walking among their people, spreading their wisdom and teachings... That is, until he showed up."

"Who?" I asked.

With a deep seeded hatred in his voice, Hui responded, "Dagoth Ur."

I had never heard of such a person. "Who is Dagoth Ur?" I asked.

Hui took a deep breath in and sighed. "The story of Dagoth Ur is a long one," said Hui.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a metal flask. "I have time," I replied.

"Very well," said Hui, "I shall tell you, but to speak of Dagoth Ur, there is history that you need to know of.

Long ago, during the First Era, there were a race of dwarves who inhabited Morrowind known as the Dwemer. Little is known of them, but what _is_ known is that they were a _highly_ evolved race, very intelligent, and technologically advanced beyond our comprehension. They were able to create these mechanized, sentient beings, constructed entirely of metal and strange electric circuitry. They possessed the ability to think and react just as well as any l_iving_ being. They are now referred to as 'centurions.'

In the center of this island, this island of Vvardenfell, is the forbidden land of Red Mountain, enclosed behind a great wall of magic energy: The Ghostfence. Within The Ghostfence is a blighted land, constantly ravaged by furious storms that darken the skies and redden the air around you to a blood red hue. Often these storms are able to climb over the heights of the Ghostfence and they reek havoc on the cities and villages of Vvardenfell, even as far south as Vivec."

As he continued to describe the region of red Mountain in great detail, a realization came upon me: everything he described seemed similar of the nightmare I had on the refugee ship. Had I already seen Red Mountain and not known it?

"Deep within the center of Red Mountain," Hui continued, "is an ancient artifact, an thing of untold power: The Heart of Lorkhan. Legend says that during the First Era, The Heart fell from the sky and was discovered by Lord Kagrenac, a powerful Dwemer architect and magecrafter of the time. Fascinated by the untold energy that was contained within it, he constructed three tools, Kagrenac's Tools, to harness The Heart's power and make him a god. He failed to do so, and in the process, he killed himself and the entire Dwemer race."

"Killed?" I asked. "The entire race?"

Hui nodded. "That is correct. Why else do you not see dwarves walking among us? Anyway, after the dwarves' disappearance, The Heart remained deep within Red Mountain undisturbed until... Dagoth Ur found it." Finally, the meat of the conversation was revealed.

"Dagoth Ur," Hui continued, "was once known as Lord Voryn Dagoth. He was born Dunmer male and worked with the Tribunal Gods themselves. Along with working with the Tribunal gods, he also worked with a Dunmer male named Indoril Nerevar, founder of House Indoril and a great warrior of his time. One day, Dagoth and Nerevar rediscovered The Heart of Lorkhan and Kagrenac's Tools deep beneath Red Mountain. Dagoth was outraged upon the discovery, and realizing that such power should not exist, he demanded that they be destroyed.

Nerevar, showing trust in Dagoth, commanded him to guard The Tools and The Heart while he returned to meet with The Tribunal and discuss their next coarse of action.

As Dagoth guarded Kagrenac's Tools and The Heart of Lorkhan, The Heart... spoke to him. It presented him with the opportunity to become a god, to uitalize the power of The Heart and make himself _invincible_. At first he declined... but The Heart's influence was too great to resist, and he eventually relented and used Kagrenac's Tools to harness The Heart's power. He became a god, renaming him forever more as 'Dagoth Ur.'

When Nerevar returned, he saw how Dagoth had changed, and became furious with him. Beneath Red Mountain they exchanged blows, but Nerevar stood no match against the invincible Dagoth Ur. He died beneath Red Mountain.

Now, to this day, Dagoth Ur resides beneath Red Mountain, feeding off the infinite power of The Heart of Lorkhan, spreading his blight storms across Vvardenfell, growing in power everyday." At this point, every Dunmer aboard the strider sat silent, listening intently to Hui's lesson in their nation's history.

"That sounds terrible," I said. "Is there anything or anyone that can defeat such an evil?"

Just then, a Dunmer male shot to his feet. "There _is _one who will kill Dagoth Ur!" he yelled. "That one is _Nerevar_!" Everyone gave a collective cheer at the uttering of his name.

Was this guy drunk? "But I thought Hui said that Nerevar was _killed_?" I replied.

"Heed these words, outlander Imperial! Azura Herself proclaimed that Nerevar shall be reincarnated, and he shall return and finish the work that the first Nerevar left undone. He will slay Dagoth Ur and bring peace to Vvardenfell! All hail Nerevar!" The whole of the strider cheered once more. "All hail Nerevar!"

As the Dunmer cheered Nerevar's name, I laid flat on my back once again, using my bag as a pillow, rethinking everything Hui said. This place had such history, such stories, evil that lurks to this very day, the hope they have for a hero that very well might not even be born yet.

I wonded when this "Nerevar" person will show next...


	6. Zela

Chapter 6: Zela

An hour of travel atop the silt strider brought us that much closer to Balmora, but the journey was still a ways away, and the people aboard the strider grew restless and hungry rather quickly. Luckily for everyone aboard , around a hour after mid day, a trader's camp came creeping over the horizon. With much persuasion, the Orc who controlled the strider was eventually convinced to pull off to the side of the road and allow everyone an hour's rest.

The strider, coming to a halt near the camp, bent down on its tall, slender legs, allowing everyone, including Hui and I to hop off. The Orc warned us that the strider would leave in an hour's time and that he would _not_ wait for "stragglers." The trader's camp, in itself, was of very modest size, consisting of a row of traveling restaurants (restaurants run off carts), a general store, and a weapons smith.

With an hour of leisure at our disposal, I inquired Hui, "What shall you do with your stay here?"

"With what little I have?" he replied. He thought for a brief moment, then finally replied, "I do believe that I am in need off a melee weapon."

"But you are a mage," I said. "You have no need of a weapon."

Hui shook his head. "Every experienced mage knows that in the event that magic is not an option, one needs a back up defense, be it a sword, ax, or whatever one sees fit. I am in need of a weapon, so I shall go to the weapon smith and purchase one. What shall you do?"

Just as he had asked, a growl emanated from my stomach. "I? I shall get some food."

With a nod, Hui turned away and walked to the camp's opposite end, toward the weapon smith. I, however, turned to the row of "meals on wheels." All seemed appetizing, with the variety as wide as the number of carts. With me stomach now dictating my movements, I slowly walked up and down the row until I finally settling on a single cart.

As I handed the cook a twenty Septum piece and he went underway with cooking my order, I heard a commotion to my right, a petty argument at that. At first, it was but a nuisance, but as time went by, the argument grew more and more heated, until finally, I had to look.

Arguing with a chef at another cart was a remarkably beautiful Dunmer female, with long, raven black hair that hung down to her shoulders, light red eyes, and wore a purple robe that formed to her slender body. Watching from a few carts away, it seemed like the woman was pleading with the chef and the cook was using a metal skewer to swat at her, as if she was a lowly rat. I could not allow this to continue, so I headed over to see what was what.

As I got closer, the two's words came in clearer and I was finally able to understand. "We do not serve your kind here," said the chef, "now get lost!"

"Please," said the female, "I have not eaten in many days. Could you please find it in your heart to spare some food."

"Without pay?! This is not a charity, Dark Elf. I serve to those who _pay_, now get out of my sight." Just then, I arrived at the cart, and his attention immediately averted from her to me. "What do you want, Imperial?"

"What goes on here?" I asked. "I observed you _swatting_ at this woman from afar. You best have a good reason for doing so."

He nodded. "That I do. This Dark Elf was attempting to get away with _free food_. When I denied her such, she continued to persist until I felt it necessary to-"

"Swing at her with a metal skewer?" I interrupted.

He nodded. "She has also lied to me, Imperial. She claims that her money was stolen from her the previous day."

I look to the Dunmer female. She stood silent, unsure whether I was going to side with her or with the chef. "Is what you said true?" I asked her. "Was your money stolen the previous day?"

She looked up with her beautiful eyes and nodded. "It is true," she replied. "I stand before with not a Septum to my name. I know not who stole my money, but I am positive that it _was_ stolen." She spoke the truth. I saw no lies in her eyes.

"I believe you," I replied. I then reached into my pocket, retrieved thirty Septums, and placed them directly into her hands. "I believe _this_ will cover the cost of a meal."

I turned to the cook and said to him, "Serve her whatever she demands."

I then turned and walked away. When I returned to the cart I had ordered from, the meal was complete. I took my order, thanked him, then found a shady spot beneath an oak tree so I could eat in quite.

Retrieving a flask from my bag, I ate in peace beneath the shade of the tree. A cool breeze blew in from the East, whistling through the leaves and branches, the sun bled through the green leaves. As the tranquil scene of nature began to relax my every muscle, I felt another presence around me.

I looked up, and standing before me, was the Dunmer female I had helped but ten minutes ago. She stood silently, holding a small sac in her right hand (no doubt containing food that she purchased with the money I gave her.)

"Hello," she said quietly, "um, would it be possible if I could... join you?"

I nodded. "Please," I said, "feel free to do so."

With that, she took a _rather_ close seat to my left, resting her back against the trunk of the tree.

"You know, stranger," she said, 'you did not have to do what you did."

I nodded. "True. While I did not _have_ to, I could not let that Orc abuse you the way he did."

"I see," she said, now speaking jokingly, "so you are just a good samaritan, doing good deeds wherever you go?"

I laughed. "I do my best," I replied.

She smiled. "What be your name, stranger?"

"Zaden," I responded. "And yours?"

"Zela," she replied. Such a beautiful name. There was a moment of silence between us, then Zela spoke again. "Where do you hail from, Zaden?"

Shit.

What hope I had at impressing her was now crumbling into a fine dust. If I revealed that I was not of Morrowind, that I was an _outlander_ (or 'N'wah'), she would surely look down upon me just as the waitress did in Seyda Neen. I had to lie about my birthplace, so I thought of the first Morrowind town name I could think of and claimed I was born there.

"I am from Balmora," I responded.

When I answered, she looked me directly in the eye without blinking, leaning in closer and closer, getting within a few inches from contact. "You are lying," she finally said. "I can tell."

"How can you be so sure?" I responded.

She smiled. "It is not easy for the average person to lie to _me_ and not have me notice. In fact, very few have. You were not born in Balmora, that much is certain. So tell me, Zaden, (if that is your real name), where you were _really_ born, and do not try to deceive me _again_."

There was no escaping it now. The truth had to be told, for any lie I said to her would be caught immediately by her whit. Oh well, there are plenty of other fish in the sea.

"I was born not in Morrowind," I admitted, "but rather... Cyrodiil." In reality, I had no idea if I was born in Cyrodiil, but I assumed that I was.

Her response caused me confusion: I received not a look of disgust, a snide comment, or better yet, a slap across the face. Rather, a look of intrigue came across Zela's face.

"Truly?" she questioned. "I have always wanted to meet someone from the mainland, for I have always lived here on the island of Vvardenfell. Tell me, Zaden, what be the providence of Cyrodiil like?"

This had to be a dream for this did not seem plausible. "Excuse me," I said, "but... are you not offended that I am outlander? After all, do your people not have the term of 'N'wah' for people such as I?"

She shook her head. "Oh no, Zaden. I am not offended that you are outlander. I do not view outlanders as others of my race do. In fact, I believe that there is much we can _learn_ from them. In addition, I do not like that term 'N'wah.' It is a vile term of ignorance that only socially separates us Dunmer from the other races... Would you agree?"

It was too good to be true: a Dunmer who did not want to kill me, and better yet, finds me _fascinating_ for something that others would kill me over. As the saying goes,

"A rock among dirt should be treasured like diamond."

"Yes," I responded, "I do agree. Such thought does nothing but isolate the development of a race as a whole. I am glad to see that _someone _is able to think so."

"So am I," she said with a smile.

Just then, a voice came from our rights. "Zaden," it yelled. Hui had finally returned from the weapon smith, now brandishing a long sword, sheathed and hanging from his left side from a leather belt. Zela and I both rose to our feet.

"I have done what I had foretold and purchased a long sword," said Hui. "It is of modest quality, made from silver, and should be able to serve me well in my-" Hui's eyes met Zela. "Who is this, Zaden?"

"This," I replied, "is Zela. We met but a few minutes ago, while you were gone."

Hui and Zela shook hands. "A pleasure to meet you," said Hui. "Do you hail from near here? I have had yet to see you on my travels."

"Actually," said Zela, "I am a bit of a traveler myself. I have had not a permeant residence for many years. However, I mean to change that soon. I currently head to Balmora to find a home to call my own."

"What coincidence," I said, "Hui and I currently do the same by means of silt strider. You could join us for the ride. I would be more then happy to pay for your fair."

Zela smiled, but shook her head. "Though your offer _is_ generous, I would rather take to Balmora by foot. Besides, I never took a liking to those striders. It is like riding the back of a giant tick."

I laughed. "I shall not deny _that_ reasoning," I said.

"Not to pester," interrupted Hui, "but the strider leaves soon. I shall take my leave now. You should board soon as well, lest you wish to walk the rest of the way as well."

Walk with Zela? _That_ I would not mind.

I nodded. "Very well, Hui. I shall join you soon." With that he turned and made his way back to the strider, which was still perched down to the ground.

I turned back to Zela. "I am afraid this is where our paths must split," I said reluctantly.

She nodded. "So it would seem," she said. "However... I have a feeling that our paths shall cross once again, in Balmora, where we both travel."

"But what if we never meet again?" I asked her.

Zela smiled, then leaned in, and gave me a kiss me on my left cheek. Her lips felt like soft rose pedals. "If so," she said, "_that_ is so you will never forget me." She then turned and walked away, following a road North, disappearing over the crest of a hill.

Once she walked out of my line of sight, I returned to the silt strider. Already, a number of people had returned, and they now waited for the Orc to return and steer this beast to their destination. I hopped onto its back, rejoining Hui in the same spot we previously held. I positioned my bag against the side of the platform wall, then rested my head atop of it. Pulling my hood over my head, I covered my eyes from the sun, and quickly fell asleep.


	7. Balmora

Chapter 7: Balmora

Much of the rest of the journey to Balmora was lost to me during my slumber. I only caught small glances when fading in and out of sleep. I only fully awoke when I heard Hui's voice call out, "Awake, Zaden. We have arrived!" My eyes shot open and I spring up from my sleeping position. I whipped around and saw before me the great city of Balmora.

The city was grand, if not vertically, but horizontally. Only a few buildings stood over three stories, all were made with primarily clay, all shared flat roofs that could collect rain water. To the East was a large mountain, its base within the walls of the city. Through the center of Balmora was a small river, channeled off and many bridges suspended over its span. To the West, the elevation rose slightly, revealing larger, more elaborate buildings. I figured that that half was where the wealthy lived.

The strider finally stopped next to a tall stone platform with a wide stairwell leading to the top. "All right," said the Orc, "everyone off!." Hui and I filed off the strider with all the others. The stairwell ended at the foot of a market, any different booths lined each side of the street. Hundreds of people crowded the street: trading, selling, purchasing a variety of goods.

I turned to Hui. "I do not know about you," I said, "but I could use a beer."

Hui turned to me with a smile on his face and said, "It's like your reading my mind, Zaden."

Hui and I walked along the bustling street, weaving our way through the crowd, finally coming upon a small tavern. We ordered a couple of ales, sat down at a table, and slowly drank them as we watched the people go by.

I turned to Hui. "Hui, now that we have both arrived in Balmora, I have just been struck with a realization: I have not a place to live!"

We both laughed, then Hui made a suggestion. "Members of The Mage's Guild get free beds in its base of operation," he said. "I am fairly sure that The Fighter's Guild does the same."

"Excellent!" I exclaimed. "The Fighter's Guild! After all, I did travel to Balmora for work! If the guild offers board, I shall be killing two birds with one stone!"

After finishing our beers, we got up from our table and began to ask the people who passed by where the two guilds were. At first, no one could be bothered with our questions, while most ignored us completely. Finally, we got an answer from a female Imperial. She told that the two guilds were beside each other, about two streets to the East. So, we took her advice and made our way across the city. After a short search, we finally found the guilds: two separate buildings that mirrored each other down the center. The Fighter's Guild was the building on the left and The Mage's Guild was the building on the right. Hui turned to me and wished me good luck in the initiation. I wished him the same and we each entered our respective buildings.

Inside The Fighter's Guild, the entrance led to a large dinning hall with three rows of tables and benches. Spread out across each table was a huge buffet of every meat possible, bowls of fruit, and pitchers of beer and ale. In the corner, a band played music (badly at that.)

As I entered the hall, a drunken Nord with brown hair halted me, stammering every word he spoke. "Hey, hey, hey," he said (sort of), "You... you are n.. n... new here, are you not?"

"Yes," I replied. "I wish to join."

He then replied, "Well... well... y-y-you should see the g-g-guild master. She's in that room riiiiiight over there!" He pointed to a door on the other side of the room. I thanked the Nord, to which he responded, "You're welco...", then fell face first into the floor, drunker then hell.

Inside the room was a red headed Nord woman sitting behind a single desk writing on a sheet of parchment. She finished up her writing and looked up at me. "What do you want?" she quickly demanded.

"I... I wish to join The Fighter's Guild," I replied.

She rose from her seat and approached me. "Oh do you?" she asked, almost tauntingly. She then circled about me again and again, examining me(for what? I do not know), all the while, muttering things to herself (things about me, most likely.)

"Not bad," she muttered, "not bad at all. Strong. Seems to be fit. Already equip with his own weapons." She then spoke at regular volume. "Tell me, stranger, are you skilled with that weapon?" she asked.

I nodded. "I would say so," I replied. "Although the occasion to test my skills has not happened of late, I am... confident in my abilities."

"So what you are saying is... if I was to attack you right now," she said, "you would be able to defend yourself in the blink of an eye?"

It was obvious what was about to happen next. "I suppose so," I replied. Then, as she looked away, lifted my right hand behind my head and pretended to scratch the back of my neck. But what I _really_ was doing was preparing myself, placing my hand near the hilt of my sword and preparing to defend myself, were she _really_ to attack me.

Then, when she turned back to face me, she saw that I had placed my hand near the hilt of my sword and, in an instant, saw through my clever little act. "Ah ha!" she exclaimed, "Try not to deceive me, Imperial, for I know what you have done. You have positioned yourself in such a way to prepare for attack. You believe me as a threat, so you have taken the appropriate measures to _take on_ said threat!

Do you know what this says to me, Imperial? This tells me that you are a _fine_ warrior, able to foresee a threat and act accordingly... However, this presents another question that needs asking: How can I be certain that you are truly as skilled as you let on and... How can we test this?"

I grabbed the handle of the sword.

She smiled. "Well, I suppose," she said, "I shall have to find this out, based on the performance of your missions."

I stood silent, not sure as to what she meant. "I do not understand," I replied.

"You may lower your guard, Imperial," she said. "You have proven yourself a _worthy_ candidate of The Fighter's Guild."

That seemed easy... perhaps too easy.

I lowered my hand from my sword. She then approached, grabbed me by the left hand and shook it violently. "I am Eydis Fire-Eye," she greated herself as, "and as you no doubt are aware, _I_ am the Guild Master here in the Balmora Fighter's Guild. From this day forward, I am your master, and you will follow my every order. Is that understood?"

She was nothing but direct. "What be your name?" she then asked.

"Zaden," I replied. I was starting to get use to this name. For some reason, it seemed to fit.

"Very well, Zaden. As of this moment, you are officially a member of The Fighter's Guild."

Finally. Now perhaps I can find a more suitable place to sleep. "I thank you, Eydis Fire-Eye," I said, "for allowing me to be a part of your prestigious guild. I am eager to start for filling my duties. However, the day has been long for me, and I would be grateful if you could direct me to my quarters."

She instantly laughed right in my face, as if I made a hilarious joke. "Surely you jest!" she said. "New recruits, especially those as _green_ as yourself, are not deserving of quarters. You must work with us for many months before you can even begin earn your quartering."

"... Then where am I to sleep? I have not a home or shelter." I asked.

"That is not my problem, Imperial. Perhaps you should have thought of this ahead of time."

"But where am I to sleep?!"

"... If I am not mistaken," she said, "there are many comfy spots in the back alleys of Balmora. Hurry and claim one now, before the other homeless seize it for themselves."

◊◊◊

How beneficial this day has been (I am clearly being sarcastic). After a day's travel to Balmora (if only to find shelter) I am now forced to spend my first night in Vvardenfell in the _streets_. I suppose I should count myself lucky (I could just as easily have been rejected from The Fighters Guild.) Eydis Fire-Eye did, however, gave me small advice as to where I could sleep: A Tribunal Temple. Although it is now obvious to me that the Dunmer hate most Imperials, those in the service of The Temple are bound by a code of charity. Therefore, they can not deny someone such as myself shelter for the night.

With that helpful piece of information, I headed toward the Temple which, as it were, was directly north of The Fighters Guild. I followed the streets north, to the near outer limits of the city. The Temple, itself, was built in a dome shape, a wall built about its entire perimeter, an archway placed before its entrance.

I walked through the archway to the wooden door of the entrance and knocked three times. A moment later, a Dunmer male, clad in black robe, poked his head through.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"I am without shelter," I responded. "Could it be possible that I may spend the night within your temple walls, if only for just tonight?"

The Dunmer stood silent for a moment, then finally responded. "Very well," he said, "follow me."

I followed him inside, entering a large, high ceiling, circular alter room. All along the curved walls were many alters, each of them for a different Deadric prince or God: Almalexia, Azura, Boethiah, Vivec, and so on. The Dunmer led me into a room near the back of the temple. Rows of bed were placed along the left wall, some of them already full of others like me, those who were in need of a night's shelter.

The Dunmer pointed to the second bed from the back. "That shall be your bed for the night," he said. "Might I ask how long you plan on using our Temple for refuge? We have had those who have taken _advantage_ of our infinite generosity, and I fear that you might be yet another."

"I plan on staying" I replied, "for as long as it takes, until the day arrives that I obtain board from The Fighters Guild."

"Then I fear that your stay will be a long one. Good night," he said, then quickly leaving.

I striped myself of both my equipment and my robe, then slipped beneath the cover of the soft bed. As I laid flat upon the bed, looking toward the cracks in the ceiling above, I reflected on the day's events. With a guild to my name, a new world of opportunities was now open: a title, a source of income, and possibly renown. I now had but one friend in the entirety of Vvardenfell: the Argonian, Hui.

And Zela...


	8. New Orders

Chapter 8: New Orders

I awoke abruptly then next morn with an unwanted wake up call, courtesy of the Temple. At about five hours past midnight, the large, church like bells rung five times from within the Temple. The sound that reverberated within the walls was _so_ loud, I nearly fell from my bed from the first initial ring. At once, like clockwork, those who slept in the other beds got up as well, got dressed, and filed from the room. I quickly did the same and followed.

The group filed into the Alter room, heading toward another doorway on the opposite side. There, placed upon a lone wooden table, were a number of silver plates, each holding a few slices of bread, a pad of butter on each, and a small cup of hot water, a tea bag floating within it.

I turned to the Imperial behind me. "Does the Temple serve for all meals?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, only for breakfast," she replied. "All other meals must be obtained from another source. Where _that_ be is up to you."

I took the plate and cup and returned to my bed. I ate alone, savoring every last morsel of the bread. The tea was adequate, though I was in no position to judge their hospitality. Once finished, I returned the plate to the table and headed outside, back into the city of Balmora.

◊◊◊

The city was quiet at such an early hour. Only the guards, shopkeepers, and small number of commoners were up and about. A faint, but visible mist laid low on the ground, reaching only up to my ankles. The sun had not yet risen above the shadows of the mountains to the East. The skies were still shades of dark blue and purple, the morning crickets were still singing. However, from the West, I could spot the fast approaching clouds of a furious rainstorm. I predicted that it would reach balmora no later than noon.

With my stomach not _nearly_ satisfied with the meal provided by the Temple, I made my way to the market section of Balmora, where the food venders were _already_ making their business. It was there that I purchased a richer, more flavorful cup of tea and a sweet roll, thick crystals of sugar topping it.

Then, as I sat upon a bench and ate, I could not help but overhear the conversation of the two who sat behind me on another bench. I did not dare look at them directly, so to avoid potential confrontation, I kept my head bowed. As they spoke, while one voice was alien to me, the other rang _familiar_.

"My master," said the familiar voice, "could you would please reiterate the task we have been ordered to do?"

"Very well," said the other. "We are to travel South and West, outside the limits of Balmora, into The Bitter Coast region, the swamp lands of Vvardenfell. There, we are to collect a number of samples of each of the flora and fauna written upon our list. Once our task is done, we will return the The Mages Guild and give our findings to the Guild Master."

"Be it dangerous, this Bitter Coast? I have already heard stories of the Cliff Racers, the winged beasts that attack on sight."

"Apart from those, which are a pestilence in itself, you will find The Bitter Coast a safe area to rome. Though, I must admit, the name gives it no justice."

"I am excited for this journey. Though I_ am_ Argonian, I have never set foot in my homeland, the providence of Black Marsh. I feel as if _these_ swamps will be as close to a home environment as I will _ever_ be."

Argonian? Could it be?... No. The odds of him being who I _think_ he is are slim at best. However, I had to look either way.

I lifted my head and looked behind me. There, sitting upon a bench, were two men, a Dunmer, dressed in a blue robe of heavy cloth, a wooden mage staff held in his left hand, and a blue, wide brimmed, pointed wizards hat. All these things told without words me that he was a mage of _high_ stature and skill.

The other with him... was Hui!

"Hui!" I said with joy.

Hui and his companion turned in an instant. "Zaden!" said Hui, "What fortune to see you again!" We both rose to our feet and shook each other's handshands.

"It brings joy into my heart to finally see a familiar face and hear a familiar voice," I said. "How has your within in Balmora treated you so far? I see you were successful in joining The Mages Guild."

"It is true," said Hui. "I am of The Mages Guild now, apprentice to my master, Maros."

Maros approached. "Who be this Imperial?" he asked Hui. "A friend?"

Hui nodded. "He is a friend," said Hui, "and it is but his second day in Morrowind. His name is Zaden."

"Oh," said Maros, "I see..." He then discretely muttered "n'wah" beneath his breath.

"So tell me," asked Hui to I, "what of your stay in Balmora? Has your acceptance into The Fighters Guild been successful?"

"Yes," I responded, "though my quest for board has been for not as of now. I have yet to 'earn' that."

"I am proud for you, Zaden. I only wish that they will give you board soon-"

Just then, Maros placed his arm between Hui and I, then pushed each other apart. "Stand clear of him, Hui," demanded Maros. "Speak not to this Fighters Guild_ n'wah_."

"For what reason, Master?" asked Hui.

"Do not question your master's orders! He is of The _Fighters Guild_, which makes him _our_ enemy. He is n'wah, so he is my enemy." His eyes then slowly turned downward, toward my sweet roll.

"Apprentice," he said, "I command you to rob him of his sweet roll, throw it to the ground, and crush it beneath your foot. Prove to me your loyalty to me and The Mages Guild."

"But master," said Hui, "he is a friend, and has done us no harm. Let us leave him be and go on our way."

"I _commanded_ you to do a task, Argonian, and you will _do it_!"

"And what if I were to _refuse_?" asked Hui defiantly.

Maros turned back to Hui, with fire in his eyes. "If you refuse," he said, "not _only_ will I expel from The Mages Guild, I will _personally_ leave a burning scar upon your _entire_ face, one that will _never_ be healed. Now, do as I _commanded_!"

Hui had no further room for debate. He slowly approached me. Facing opposite of his master, Hui mouthed to me the words, "I am sorry." Hui then knocked the sweet roll from my hands and quickly crushed it beneath his foot. Then, if only to further appease his master, Hui knocked the cup of tea from my other hand.

Maros nodded. "Very good," he said to Hui, "you have done. Let this be a lesson to you, my apprentice: treat all members of The Fighters Guild as such." Maros then approached me, getting to within a foot of my face. "As for you," he said, "heed _these_ words: stay _far_ from The Mages Guild, stay _far_ from my apprentice, and stay even _farther_ from me... _N'wah scum_."

With that he ordered his apprentice to follow, then turned away, following the street South. As they walked away, Hui looked back once.

Only once.

◊◊◊

My return to The Fighters Guild was not met with much reception either. All the other members met me with the stares of strangers, not ones of friends. My only joy in return was meeting with Eydis Fire-Eye, the only one who greeted me with friendship the night before (apart from the Nord, who was drunker than hell at the time.) I met her in her office. She sat behind her desk, once again writing away on a scroll of parchment.

"Welcome back," she said, "I am glad to see that you have decided to follow up on your Fighters Guild obligations. Most decide to leave after the first day, not knowing what they got themselves into."

"I am not the type to give up what I have started," I replied. "I am willing to take on the orders of The Fighters Guild."

"That is good," she said, "for I have orders for you already. A quest, if you will."

I was eager to receive me orders. It had only been my second day and I have received a quest.

"What is it, Guild Master?" I asked.

She stood up from behind her desk, hands clasped behind her back. "We recieved a contract this morning," she said, "from a Dunmer female across the River Odai, the river that flows through the middle of Balmora. She speaks of having an infestation of _rats_ in her house. She wished for someone to go there and kill them... That someone will be you."

...

"Rats?" I replied. "You are sending me to kill _rats_?"

"Yes, Zaden. I can see that you are disappointed, but there is simply nothing I can do. We must all start from the bottom to reach the top, as they say. Think of _this_ as your bottom."

I nodded my head. "Very well, Guild Master. My mission shall be completed."

She nodded. "_That_ is what I want to hear." As I turned toward the door, she spoke these final words. "It is good that your robe has a hood, for the rains have already reached Balmora, and they are _quite_ furious."

◊◊◊

I walked out the front entrance of the guild to face the heavy rain I spotted in the morn. Strong winds blew in from the West, drenching me from head to toe. I cast the white hood over my head and made my way across town toward the river. The stone streets were now flooded with run off water. I knew of a main stairwell near the middle of the town, leading strait to the river, so I took that. Water cascaded down said steps, creating a veritable waterfall. Not another soul could be seen in the streets.

I could not blame them for doing so.

The water level of the river had risen drastically due to the rain. The wind created waves that traveled up and down the entire span of the channel. The waves grew so strong, they flowed over the edge and into the streets, flooding them further. I walked across the river's span using one of the many bridges that were constructed over it.

On the other side of the river, there was nothing but residential housing. I searched through the addresses and after about ten minutes, I finally found it. I knocked on the door three times and waited for an answer. Finally, an old Dunmer woman answered the door. She took a quick glance at me and said, "You must be here to kill the rats. Well, it is about damn time! Get in here!"

I walked into the woman's house. I was dripping wet and left large puddles on the floor. She began to yell at me for said reason. "You n'wah idiot!" she exclaimed. "You are dripping puddles all over the damn floor! What in Oblivion is wrong with you?!"

I tried to stay as professional as possible, resisting all urges to leave right then and there.

"I was told that you had a rat problem," I said.

She was already in a bad mood, and that only succeeded in making it worse. "Well no shit, n'wah!" she said in response. "What do you think I contacted the guild for! They are all in that back room. Just kill them, n'wah, and get out of my house!"

N'wah must be her favorite word.

She pointed to a door near the back of the room. I could hear squeaking on the other side, the scratching of claws against the wooden door. It sounded like there were quite a few of them. I unsheathed my sword and gripped it tight, creeping slowly toward the door. I grabbed the brass doorknob and slowly turned it to the right, then swung it open, pushing forward.

The room itself was a storage room. It held a number of cloth sacks and crates. And there, in front of me, were the rats. There were three of them, huge in size. They all feasted on the contents of an open sack of grain, which they had no doubt chewed open.

Suddenly, one of them noticed my presence within the room, whipped around, and began to snarl threateningly. The others quickly joined suit. I assumed a fighting stance and waited for them to attack. Then, all at once, they charged toward me.

They were obviously no match for me. As soon as they got within reach of my sword, I swung at them, leaving fatal gashes across each of their stomachs. In three solid blows, all the rats were killed. I then sheathed my sword and turned back to the old woman. I really did not expect a "Thank you", but I did not expect the response she gave.

"Fucking n'wah!" she exclaimed. "Get out of my home!"

Actually, I kind of did expect that.

◊◊◊

I walked outside. The rain had now completely stopped in the few minutes I was iwithin the woman's house. The sky was now beginning to clear up. I walked across the bridge and back toward the guild. The streets were still covered in a sheet of water, but now, people were about. Using ordinary brooms and sweeps, they all banned together and pushed all the run-off water that remained down the hill and into the river. I returned to the guild, dried clothes by a fire, and reported to the Guild Master with my success. For my service, she rewarded me with one hundred gold pieces (not a bad pay for killing rodents.)

I then decided to take a breather outside and I found a quiet spot upon a bench in the city common ground. It was just about two hours past Noon, and the city was beginning to come back to life. With the rains passed, shops were opening up again, people were out and about, and the heartbeat of the city beaten once again.

As I relaxed upon the bench, I heard a familiar voice to my right. "Zaden!"

I quickly turned to see who it was. Much to the delight of my heart, it was Zela, who looked just a beautiful as ever. I rose from my seat and walked to her. When we got arms length apart, she threw herself against me and embraced me. "It is so good to see you!" she said.

"It is good to see you as well," I responded. "How have things been? When we last spoke, you said that you were in search of a home in Balmora. Have you been able to do so?"

She chuckled. "It has only been a day, Zaden. No, I am staying at a friend's house on the other side of the river Odai. But apart from that, life has graced me well. How are things with you?"

"Things go well," I responded. "I have been successful in joining The Fighters Guild. In fact, today, I was given my first assignment."

"Truly? What assignment be that?"

"I was sent to kill rats for an ungrateful old woman," I replied. "She could not stop calling me 'N'wah' in the entire process."

She stifled her laughter. "Sounds of importance," she said sarcasticly. "I am sorry to hear that. Perhaps your next assignment will be to escort the elderly across these rain slick streets."

We both laughed for a few seconds, then silence came between us. We stood still for a moments of time, unsure what to further say. At length, I finally broke the silence with a bold question.

"Zela," I asked, "is your schedule for this evening clear?"

"Perhaps it is," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Would you like to join me this evening for dinner?"

Her eyes glimmered in the mid day sun. She smiled.

"Dinner," she said, "sounds great. Let us meet here tonight, at the eight strokes of the evening bells." She leaned in and kissed me. "Do not be late." She slowly turned around and walked away, looking back once.

Only once.


	9. A Night to Remember

Chapter 9: A Night to Remember

The air that night was cool. The streets had nearly been cleaned of run-off water, due in part to the residents' efforts, but a glimmering sheet of wet still remained. The crickets returned, continuing their singing. It was around eight hours past noon and the streets were bustling with life. This came as no suprise, as it was a Friday, and work hours have long since ended.

I sat on the same bench where I met Zela earlier that day, waiting for her to show. I looked up at the two moons: the large red one, Masser, and the smaller white one, Secunda. They were both in crescent form, the larger one waning, the smaller waxing. The stars seemed to shine brighter this night then they did the last. The wait for Zela seemed to last for an eternity in length. I leaned over and stared at the ground beneath me... waiting... waiting... waiting.

"So you showed up?" Zela's voice seemed to pop out from the ambient crowd noise. I looked up and there, in front of me, she stood. I shot up from the bench.

"Zeal," I said, "you look... even more beautiful then before, if such a feat were possible."

She smiled. "Oh stop it, Zaden, you flatter me," she said. She then grabbed my by my left arm and interlocked it with her right arm. "So where shall we go this evening?" she asked.

I have not give much thought into what we would do. In fact, I had not a single _idea_ of what to do. So, in light of that, I decided to let _her_ decide. "What would you prefer to do?" I asked.

She jokingly shook her head. "Tisk tisk," she said, "letting the _woman_ chose the date? Not very gentleman of you, Zaden."

"It is but my second day in Balmora," I know little of it."

"Very well," she said with a smile, "I suppose it is up to me... Tell me, do you drink?"

I nodded.

"Well, since I do as well, I suggest that we go to a local tavern that is not far from here, a place named the "Eight Plates." It is fairly popular, and is but a few streets over. Let us hurry now, before the place overcrowds."

She was nothing but direct. "Lead the way," I replied, and we went on our way. With our arms interlocked, we followed the streets North, then West after a few minutes. Then, as if luck held a grudge against me, as we took a shortcut through a narrow alleyway, three people suddenly appeared, blocking our progress: all three were Dunmer, two were complete strangers to me.

The third, however... was Maros, and he looked not at all happy to see me.

"Well, well, well," said Maros tauntingly, "what have we here? A couple of _lovebirds_, I assume."

"This be the one?" asked the Dunmer on the left of Maros. "This be the 'Imperial in white' you spoke of earlier?"

Maros nodded. "Yes. This is him... the _n'wah_ who befriended my Mage Guild apprentice."

"Who are these thugs?" asked Zela.

"The one to the left and right," I said, "I know not. The one in the center, however, I know as Maros. Do you remember the Argonian I introduced you to a day ago?" She nodded. "Well, upon his induction into The Mages Guild, Maros became _his_ master."

"That is right," said Maros, "and I gave you, Zaden, specific orders during our last encounter: _stay far from me_... Yet the n'wah returns." He looked to his friends. "Now... what do you suppose we should do to solve this dilemma? Hmm?"

"We are merely passing through," I said, "and we are not looking for confrontation. Please, let us pass."

Maros slowly shook his head, a evil grin on his face. "If only it were that easy," he replied. "No, I feel as if a _permeant_ reminder must be given." He then looked to his two cronies. "What do you think? A burn to the arm? The chest? How about the face, singe the goatee of his pretty little face? Yes... I rather like that last one."

Zela then broke our arm lock and stood defiantly toward the three thugs. "Leave us," she demanded boldly.

Maros's glare instantly shifted to Zela. "And what makes you think I will take orders from you, you n'wah loving s'wit!"

In an instant, Zela retrieved a hidden steel knife from a pocket in her robe and shoved Maros against the wall, she pressed the blade of the knife against his neck. What she did next was something I did not expect as well. With great anger in her voice, she began to yell at Maros in Dunmeris, the language of the Dunmer. Naturally, as one who only spoke the Common Language, I had not a single idea what she was saying, but from the reactions of the other Dunmer, I concluded that they her words were_ far_ from complementary.

The eyes of one of the Dunmer and I met. "You there," I said, "what is she saying?"

He simply shook his head. "Trust me," he replied, "you do not want to know."

After a solid minute of verbal assault, Zela finally released Maros from the blade of her knife, which she quickly tucked away from sight. Maros, with his jaw hung open from shock, stepped backwards away from Zela and I. He was now so fearful of Zela, his words were stuttered.

"I-I have never been so insulted in all my life!" said Maros. "That woman is a terror, too ambitious for her own good!" He paused for a brief moment, then sighed to regain his composure. "Very well, Zaden, I shall take my leave of you two... However, let this be known: you little girlfriend will not always be there to fight your battles, and when such an event happens, I will _not_ hold back." He then signaled his two cronies and they all left at once.

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence between Zela and I. We stood still in the shadow of the alley, debating within ourselves whether or not to be the one to break said silence. In the end, it was Zela that did such.

"I apologize," said Zela, "for my behavior. It was not my place to interfere in your affairs."

"Do not apologize," I said. "That was incredible, how you took such command!"

Zela smiled. "Well... I must admit that I seemed to shift the control of power rather quickly, would you not agree?"

I nodded and smiled. "I must ask, though: What did you say to Maros that caused him to shake in such a manner?"

"Nothing that should ever be repeated," she replied. "Though some of the words spoken would mean absolutely nothing to an Imperial, they are foul words when spoken to Dunmer." She paused. "I would rather not speak of this any further."

I took Zela by the hand. "Whatever be your wish, my love," I said.

She laughed. "My love?" she asked.

"What? Do you not approve of the name?"

"No, I do approve, it is just that I have not been called that since-" She stopped mid sentence.

"Since what?" I asked.

"Oh, it is nothing," she responded, clearly avoiding the question, as she interlocked arms once more. "Now, let us go, Zaden. As we stand here in the dark, the tavern only continues to grow more and more full."

◊◊◊

The Eight Plates, as it turned out, was a popular place to congregate. We entered the dimly lit tavern, only to be met by the glares of other Dunmer who sat within. Apparently, the act of having relations between a Dunmer and an Imperial was more frowned upon then I originally thought.

But at this point, I cared not what others thought. I had a beautiful woman with which to spend my time with, and that was all that mattered to me. To me, race meant nothing.

Zela and I took a seat in a dark corner of the tavern. As soon as we were seated, a waitress placed two pints of ale on the table, compliments of the house. We sat silently for a few moments, simply enjoying each other's company. I thought to myself about what Zela said (or almost said) after Maros and his thugs fled. When I referred to Zela as "my love", she said that "I have not been called that since-", then just dropped the conversation all together.

What was she hiding?

After another moment of silence between us, I finally decided to ask her. "If I may be so bold," I said, "I wish to ask you about what you were about to say, when we were in the alleyway."

She glanced up for a brief moment. She gave a slight smile and looked slightly away. "It was nothing," she innocently responded. "Just... something I remembered from my past."

"Is that so? What was it?"

She shook her head. "It was nothing, really. Nothing of significance."

She was trying to avoid the question, that much was certain. But why? Perhaps... she was embarrassed about something... or ashamed.

"I see," I responded. "Zela, I am curious as to how you make your living here. Are you a member of a guild?"

She turned as still as stone, frozen in place. Slowly, she looked up, frightened from the question. "N-No," she replied, "I am not of any guild. As I said, I am a _traveler_."

She was lying. I could tell.

Just then, I remembered back to the alleyway, when Zela pressed the blade of her dagger against Maros. Something about the knife did not seem right. It looked too... expensive, for any "traveler" to carry.

"Zela," I said, "might I be able to see that dagger you keep hidden."

She looked understandably confused. "What? For what reason?" she asked.

"I just wish to see it," I responded.

"Zaden, you are beginning to scare me."

"I apologize if I seem a bit odd. I just want to see it."

"... Ok," she relented, "but just keep your hands where I can see them. I wish not for any _sudden_ movements."

With my palms flat on the table, she reached below the table, and when her hand reappeared, it was holding the knife. He held it for me to clearly see.

"There," she said, "satisfied?"

Not exactly. I then quickly reached across the table and snatched the dagger out of her hands, then brought it in closer for a more detailed look. It was just as I thought: the dagger was quite expensive, indeed.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Give that back!"

"My my," I said, "what a _pricey_ dagger you have. A blade of silver (not the cheapest of metals), a green emerald as the pommel and the knuckle guard... is that _real_ gold?"

"That is _not_ of your concern!" she replied. "Now give it back!"

"Now how much did a dagger such as this cost you?" I asked. "One thousand septums?"

Zela suddenly reached across the table and snatched the dagger back out of my hand. "Fifteen hundred," she replied.

"And how can you afford such an expensive weapon? In your _'travels'_?"

"No- I mean yes... damn it."

"Please, tell me the truth, Zela."

She sighed. "Very well... you have found me out." She paused. "I _do _have a connection to a guild."

"What guild?" I asked. "The Fighters Guild? The Mages Guild?"

She shook her head. "None of the mentioned," she responded. "... I am of... The _Thieves_ Guild."

I have only heard so much about The Thieves Guild, mostly stories. As far as I knew, The Thieves Guild was, essentially, a group of common pickpockets who decided to make an organization of themselves. They operate within the shadows, always staying hidden. The Empire denies The Thieves Guild's very existence, but everyone _else_ knows for a_ fact_ that they do exist.

This was the first time I had ever met someone from The Thieves Guild. I had always envisioned Thieves Guild members to be villainous, deceitful, ugly, back-stabbing people... not beautiful.

Zela looked down into her pint of ale. "I understand," she said, "if you no longer wish to associate yourself with me, now that you know of my past."

"What are you talking about?!" I asked. "Why would I do such a thing?"

She looked up. "Because you know that I am of The _Thieves Guild_, that is why. I am looked down upon by The Empire and all its citizens."

"But not by me," I said. "I care not of your choices in life. You seem a kind soul, Zela, and not the villainous type that others make you out to be."

She smiled. "Thank you." She looked down once again, looking into her ale. "You know... you are the first to do this, to accept my past. When all others learn of my past, my service to The Thieves Guild, they _shun_ me, cast me aside, _exile_ me from their company... I lost many friends this way.

But you... you are different, Zaden. You see _past_ alliances and focus only on _character_. Rather then shun me, you embrace me, keep me in your company."

She looked into my eyes and smiled. "You are truly something else," she said.

◊◊◊

We spent the next few hours in the tavern together. We talked for what seemed like entire night, and we talked about _anything_ and _everything_. When we left the tavern at about an hour before midnight, I was more in love with her then ever before. I could tell she felt the same toward me.

With Zela under arm, we walked East, over the River Odai, to the residential half of Balmora. The streets were dead, not a single other roamed. Zela led me to her friend's home, where she was currently living. She was merely renting a single room from it. With a final kiss, Zela wished me a good night.

As she walked to the door, I said to her, "I would very much like to do this again."

She stopped, turned back, and smiled. "Then meet back here two days from now... Flowers would be nice." She then walked inside, closing the door behind her.

I felt as light as a feather. She wanted to see me again! I could not have been any happier. Then, as I turned West and headed back, a deep voice emanated from the shadows of an alleyway.

"Quite the catch," it said.

I spun around and faced the shadows. "Who is there?" I asked it. "Show yourself!"

A figure appeared from the shadow and into the red and white moonlight. It was a Khajiit, clad in black leather armor. The Khajiit are a race of "cat people" who only share with humans a similar bone structure. Nearly everything else about them was alien: fur that covered their entire body, a long tail, cat like eyes and ears, sharp pointed teeth. Khajiits were known as stealthy fighters and some of the most naturally gifted thieves. To most, that is how all of their kind are seen.

"What do you mean by 'quite the catch'?" I asked him.

"The Dark Elf," he said in a dark voice. "She is _quite_ the catch."

"I... suppose so," I replied nervously.

"It is too bad that she will receive heartbreaking news in the morn."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It is a shame really," he continued, "because you two make such a beautiful couple."

I placed my right hand behind my neck, positioning it near the hilt of my sword. "I do not like where your conversation is leading," I said.

"And rightfully so," he responded, "because... you will be dead before next morn's light." He then unsheathed a knife from his hip. "Do not worry... I will take good care of your girlfriend when you are six feet _under_."

With Khajiit quickness, he jumped at me, knife grasped tight in his furred hand. He made a sweeping swing at me, which I was able to barely dodge. He was unrelenting, swinging wildly at me, the knife's blade whistling in the still night air. To defend myself, I quickly unsheathed my sword and deflected yet another of his knife attacks, the clash of metal upon metal sending a loud clang through the street.

Bad idea.

The clang was loud enough to alert a couple of on-patrol guards. As the Khajiit continued his onslaught, I could hear the guard's armored footsteps coming ever closer. I needed to end this fight now.

When the Khajiit came in for a final stab at my stomach, he missed and went stumbling forward. With sword in hand, I thrusted the blade through is back, piercing him through the heart. He stumbled a few more steps forward into the street before he finally died, falling strait into the glow of the guard's torches.

Before the guards looked into the alley for the Khajiit's killer, I had already made my escape.


	10. Premonitions

Chapter 10: Premonitions

The single, devilish creature walked the center of the caliginous hallway, hunched over with fidgeting hands. The creature resembled the holy depiction of devils: fair skinned, long pointed ears, fangs that hung outside its mouth, blood red eyes, a long whip-like tail that dragged across the floor. The hallway was lined with the rotating gears and steam machinery of civilizations past.

What laid before the scamp at hallway's end was a set of double doors over twenty five feet tall. Two demonic beings stood guard there, standing over twelve feet tall themselves, each of them clad in armor so black that light could not escape its surface. Before the scamp reached the door, a guard pulled from his sheath a sword that sprouted flames from its blade and pointed it toward the scamp. The guard spoke with a voice so deep it could demoralize the most headstrong of men.

"Halt!" he demanded. "Who stands at the gates of Hell?"

The scamp responded in a weak, feeble voice. "One who has tasted death and forever craves more."

The guard turned to his accomplice who gave him a nod. It turned back to the scamp, who was now cowering in fear.

"Enter," said the guard

The two doors open slowly, leading to the throne room. The scamp's breath quickened out of fear. It proceeded forward at a cautious pace. Once he entered the room, the doors slammed shut behind him.

The room reeked of gore and death. Red candles lined the perimeter of the domed room, casting a red glow throughout. The scamp walked to the room's center, where a small platform stood. The scamp climbed atop the platform and knelt onto one knee, bowing his head.

"Milord," it said, "I have returned."

In front of the devil was constructed a throne of infernal design, its headrest was carved with the images of dragons, devils, and demons. From the seat of the throne, an eruption of flames appeared. When the flames died out, a figure sat within, the black shadow of a man. The figure spoke with a voice which resembled that of the guard's.

"Speak, slave," he commanded.

"Milord," said the scamp, "I have reports on the outlander."

"And?"

"He is a male by the name of Zaden. We have reason to believe that he is the one you are in search of."

"And you are sure of this?"

"Yes, milord."

The figure chuckled a malicious laugh. "So," he said in an aside, "the day has _finally_ come. _He_ has returned, so foretold by the prophecies. It matters not, though. He shall_ fall _just as easily as the one _before_ him."

"Milord," said the scamp, "might I suggest that we go and kill him now, while he poses little threat."

The figure rose from his throne, his fists quenched. "Do you question my authority, you putrid scurf?!"

"No, milord. I would never-"

Too late.

The figure rose his right arm, pointing to the scamp, and lifted him high above the ground with powerful telekinetic magic. The scamp pleaded for his life. "Please milord," it said, "forgive me!" He found no sympathy at His hands.

The figure spoke with pure evil in his heart. "You have insulted me for the last time!" He then tightened his have into a fist. The scamp then exploded, releasing a wave of blood which coated the walls.

The shadow figure sat back down on his throne. Then, making a hand jester, an identical scamp entered the room. "Yes, milord?" it asked.

"What dose the future hold for our friend Zaden?" he asked.

"In future months, he shall make a trek to the town of Suran by means of silt strider."

"Excellent," he said. "Assemble a horde of the best mercinaries you can muster and bring them before me. I shall give them their orders."


	11. A New Home

Chapter 11: A New Home

**Four Months Later...**

The Fighters Guild had now become a way of life for me. Each day I served for _them_. Much of my daylight hours was spent in the Fighters Guild compound training. I became stronger and faster with every passing day. I rose in the ranks as well, starting out as a lowly Associate and rising three ranks to eventually become Protector.

The higher rank did_ not_, however, improve my social standing among the other members of The Fighters Guild. Everyone _still_ disliked me. They all seemed to avoid me, looked away when I tried to make idle conversation. It was lonely within the guild compound. The only thing I could do was train, so train I did.

What was worse about The Fighters Guild were the _mundane _quests given to me. Even at the rank of Protector, I found myself still being assigned to demeaning quests. One of the more ridiculous of quests was a escort mission I was assigned to lead, assisted by two Associates. We three were ordered to protect a shipment heading from Balmora to the village of Caldera, a village not far north. What was the shipment? Pillows. I kid you not. If it was not for the fact that I was receiving payment for these jobs, I would have quit a long time ago.

If that was not the worst four months of my life already, I could not see my good friend Hui at all. The Mages Guild, no doubt from the persuasion of _Maros_, enforced a rule that I, specifically, was not allowed near The Mages Guild compound or any of its members.

Only once did I_ ever_ attempt to meet with Hui. I foolishly walked through the front door of The Mages Guild, hoping to meet. Upon taking but _three_ steps into the building, a female Dunmer, robed in blue, approached and, using magic, threw me off my feet back outside, tossing me flat onto my back.

However, not _all_ was lost, for there was always Zela. She was the only person that seemed to care for me, and we both loved each other deeply. Every other night, we would meet and spend time together. There would be nights where we would simply find a quiet rooftop, lay flat upon our backs, and look at the stars.

She would always ask me if I had finally obtained boarding from the guild. I would always reply "No" but little did I know was that _that_ was all about to change.

o0o

The day started just as any other: standing in attention in front of Eydis Fire-Eye's desk, awaiting my orders for the day. She, as usual, was busily writing away upon a scroll of parchment. I waited for a full three minutes until she finally finished, rolled the scroll up, and tucked it away beneath her desk.

"Zaden," she said, finally looking up from her work, "how long has your service to The Fighters Guild been?"

"Four months," I proudly replied.

She stood up from her desk, her hands folded behind her back. "Tell me... have you yet obtained housing of your own, or do you still retire to that Tribunal Temple atop the hill?"

I nodded. "I still sleep within the temple," I replied.

"I see...," she said. She reached below her desk, retrieved a scroll, and spread it upon the desk's surface. It was a wanted poster with the image of an ugly Orc female printed upon it. The Orc sported her hair tied in a short ponytail that stood up strait upon her head. "I have a contract for you, Zaden. Tell me, do you know this woman?"

I studied the image carefully. I shook my head. "Sorry, Guild Master, I do not recognize the face," I replied.

"This," she said, "is Dura gra-Bol. She is a _wanted_ criminal, charged with the murder of a Imperial couple about a month ago. The husband was a member of The Imperial Legion, so she has been put on the _top_ of the wanted list. She has a bounty worth of ten thousand septums." That was the equivalent of half a year's pay. "Reports indicate that she lives in a home on the East side of the River Odai. We do not know which house it is, so _you_ will have to ask around.

I want you, Zaden, to seek out this Orc... and kill her. Use whatever means necessary to take her down. It does not matter how she is killed, we will be compensated either way. Just make sure she is _dead,_ understand?"

"Yes, Guild Master," I replied.

She nodded. "Good." She then rolled up the scroll and handed it to me. "Be careful," she warned me. "She did not evade us for a month solely on _luck_. She is crafty and dangerous, and she will try to kill you at the first chance she gets. Do not give her that chance... and do not die, either."

How reassuring.

o0o

It was about two hours until midday when I left The Fighters Guild compound. The sun had finally dried the morning dew away and the streets of Balmora were once again congested. Fully armed and with a vague sense of where I was heading, I headed East toward the Residential Half of Balmora.

If I was going to have to ask about for the Orc's location, I decided on _first_ asking a reliable source. I was going to ask Zela.

After walking across the bridges that spanned the River Odai, I made it to where Zela lived. I knocked on the door three times and a few seconds later, Zela answered, greeting me with a smile and a kiss on the lips.

"Zaden," she said, "this is... unexpected. What brings you here unannounced?"

"I am on official Fighters Guild business," I replied.

She gave a slight chuckle, thinking it was yet another demeaning task. "And what be it today?" she asked, "Killing more rats?"

"Believe it or not, I am _actually_ doing work of significance. I am in search of a dangerous criminal, a female Orc charged with the murder of an Imperial couple just last month."

The smile on Zela's face went away in an instant. "Oh dear," she said, "that _does_ sound serious. I have heard of that murder. A gruesome event, that was. Some say that the blood of the victims was spread across the walls. Is she really as dangerous as they say?"

"She has a accumulated bounty of ten thousand septums, so I would _assume_ so."

"How can someone like this still be on the loose?" Zela asked.

"That," I said, " is what I am trying to end tpday. I came in hopes that you had any knowledge of her location."

"Balmora is a large city, Zaden. It would be tough to find one single person. However, I will help out in any way possible. Do you, perhaps, have a name that I can go by? A picture?"

I reached into my pocket and retrieved the wanted scroll, and opened it toward Zela. "Her name," I said, "is Dura gra-Bol. Does she look at all familiar to you?"

Zela studied the poster for a few seconds. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "I-I know this person," she replied.

"Are you certain?" I asked. She nodded. "How do you know her?"

"When I served The Thieves Guild, she was a member as well. I use to work along side her. She was, without a doubt, the _least stealthy_ operative I have _ever_ known. In fact, I thought her mad. The only reason that she was _ever_ able to stay a member was that sole fact that she, eventually, _did _complete her assignments. I can show you where she lives, if you wish it."

"It would be most helpful," I said. "Thank you."

"Just one moment," she said and she went back inside, only to reappear a moment later, cloaked like a monk, her face hidden in the shadow of the hood. "If Dura gra-Bol was to spot me," she said, "she could very well alert The Thieves Guild of my betrayal against a member."

I nodded and asked her to "Lead the way." I followed Zela west, to the Odai River, then followed it south. The house in question was the southern most house in The Residential Half, adjacent to The South Wall. The first story was built like a box, a staircase built on its side leading to the roof. A three story tower was built directly in the center, long green glass windows ran its height. It must have been the tallest building in The Residential Half. Zela and I observed from a block away.

"Quite an impressive home," I said. "I am going to guess that she acquired this_ illegally_."

Zela smiled. "You would be correct," she replied. "If I did not know better, I would assume that she-"

Just then, the door to the home opened and a female Orc stepped outside, armed with a steel claymore scabbared to her back.

Zela quickly averted her face. "That is _her_, Zaden," she said. "That is Dura gra-Bol! Quickly, while her guard is lowered, strike!"

I shook my head. "No," I replied. "Not yet... For now, let us follow her, see where she goes. Perhaps a more _opportune_ moment will arise."

Dura headed West, over the canal bridges into the western half of Balmora. Zela and I followed her at a distance of about fifteen yards, enough to keep a close eye on her but not close enough to alert her of our presence. She headed into the Market Plaza, which, at high noon, was congested with people and noise: the sound of voices, music, footsteps. I, at a slight height advantage, was able to see over the heads of the crowd, allowing me to keep constant watch on my target. Zela, however, was not so fortunate, and she was quickly lost in the crowd.

Normally, I would have went back to get her, but today, I had a job to do. Dura gra-Bol could _not_ leave my sight.

After trailing her for about five minutes, she finally stopped at a weapons vendor (what a suprise) and began to look through the wears. I took this opportunity to position myself behind her. She was too distracted to notice me.

"Dura gra-Bol," I announced outloud.

Slowly, she turned around and faced me, an angry glare in her eyes. "What the fuck do you want?" she demanded. "Who the fuck are you, Imperial?"

"Who _I_ am is not important," I responded. "What_ is_ important... is who _you_ are." I reached for the wanted scroll, held it in front of her face and opened it, revealing her printed mug shot. "_You_," I said, "are a criminal, wanted for the murder of an Imperial couple, the male being a member of the Imperial Legion." Instantly, all the bystanders within earshot halted. "You have one hell of a bounty on your head," I continued. I dropped the scroll, letting it fall to the ground. "Now.. we can do this one of two ways: I turn in your _living_ body, or bring back your breathless _corpse_." I grabbed the hilt of my sword. "Which shall it be?"

She growled. "Draw your sword!" she demanded. "You shall not take me alive!"

She quickly unsheathed her claymore and made a powerful overhead swing. I strafed to the left, dodging the blade by mere inches. In an instant, the crowd about us scattered and fled. The plaza was now completely empty, leaving only Dura gra-Bol and I in its center. While most fled the area, a select few remained, anxious to see us fight.

I unsheathed my sword and fell into an fighting stance, my right foot forward. Dura charged, her sword once again held high for another overhead swing. She made a diagonal downward swipe, which I strafed to avoid. As she stumbled forward, trying to regain balance, I delivered a powerful kick to her lower back that caused her to fall to her knees.

"Surrender", I said to her, "and I shall spare your life."

Dura rose to her feet, claymore still in hand, and turned and faced. "Do not pity me, Imperial," she replied. "I shall _not_ surrender. You will have to kill me!"

Just then, a trio of armor clad guards entered the Market Plaza, brandishing swords and shields. "What goes on here?!" asked one of the guards.

I pointed my sword at Dura gra-Bol. "This woman," I said, "is a wanted criminal. Arrest her!"

The guards approached Dura gra-Bol. "Surrender your arms," demanded another of the guards, "and come with us."

Suddenly, without warning, Dura charged the trio of guards and delivered a powerful side swipe of the sword at neck level. The sword met with two of the guard's necks and their throats were sliced. The guards clutched their necks, but the damage was already done. Blood poured from the gapping wounds and pooled onto the ground at their feet. After the guards staggered back and forth for a brief second, they finally died, falling forward, face down into their own blood.

The guard left remaining, after seeing two of his allies killed in one swing, fled in terror.

Dura, after easily dispatching the guards, bent down over their bodies and, to my _utter_ disbelief, started to _drink_ the pooled blood, splashing it onto her face.

Zela was correct... she was absolutely mad!

Once she was done drinking, she stood back up and turned back to me. Her eyes were bloodshot, blood dripped down from her mouth. "Your blood," she said, "is next!"

She charged me once again, the point of the sword aimed at my stomach, prepared to thrust. I timed my dodge perfectly. I side stepped _just_ as the blade passed me, and as she continued to run forward, I struck her left wrist with my sword, cutting a tendon and causing her to drop it. She stumbled to the ground, falling flat upon her back, and before she had the chance to return to her feet, I was already on top of her. I pinning her to the ground under my right foot, the tip of my blade now aimed over her heart.

"Surrender now," I said, "for you have been defeated!"

She looked up with her maddened eyes. "I would rather _die_," she responded. Then, she reached out with her right hand, grabbed the blade of my sword, and thrusted it into her own heart, with my hand still grasped upon the hilt. She fell limp shortly afterward... dead.

I pulled the blade from her chest and, retrieving a rag from my pocket, whipped the blade clean of blood. Then, as I sheathed my sword, Zela appeared from the crowd, now decloaked, and approached me. "Oh Zaden," she said, "I witnessed the fight from afar. Are you ok?"

I nodded solemnly. "Yes, I am fine," I replied. "Zela, do you know where The Fighters Guild compound is?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Go there, seek out the Guild Master, and tell her that I completed what was asked of me."

With another nod, Zela ran north, through the crowd, to the guild. I, with my body drained from the fight, sought refuge upon a bench, and rested.

A few moments later, Zela returned with Eydis Fire-Eye following behind. Eydis walked over to Dura gra-Bol's body and examined it (I assume to see if she was truly dead.) Once satisfied, she approached me.

"Excellent work," she said. "You have done a great service, not only to _me_, but to the city of Balmora."

I rose to my feet. "Glad to help," I responded sarcastically.

Eydis looked confused. "I do not understand, Zaden I gave you a complement. I am congratulating you. Why are you not pleased?"

I turned away. "Guild Master... I have never _killed_ before... not a person anyhow. I am... confused as how to feel. I should feel proud that I have done away with a murderer, and yet my soul feels... soiled."

Eydis nodded. "I understand your pain, Zaden. I felt the same pain when _I_ first killed another... I was to assassinate him in Caldera. With crossbow in hand, atop a tall building, I spotted him from across a road. When the time was perfect, I took my shot, striking him in the heart. It was only later that I found out... he was my _brother_."

"Guildmaster-" I said.

She raised a finger and shook her head. "Do not try to comfort me, Zaden. I keep my past exactly where it is: in the _past_... I advise you to do the same. You may feel guilty now, but believe me, Dura gra- Bol _deserved_ to die."

I lowered my head and sighed. "I am sure she _did_... but it pains me all the same."

The Guildmaster remained silent for a moment, as if in deep thought. Suddenly, a look popped upon her face. "So are you still not convinced that you have done noble work?" she asked. "If so, perhaps a more substantial reward is in order."

I nodded. "I am already well aware of the reward," I replied. "The ten thousand septum bounty."

"Yes, but perhaps you have earned something more... valuable?"

I turned back to her. "Such as?" I asked.

"Do you know, Zaden, where Dura gra-Bol lived?"

"Yes. It was a home in the Residential Half, a rather large home, if I remember correctly."

"How would you, Zaden, like to own said home?" she asked.

I stared at her in disbelief. I looked to Zela, who was just as shocked as I.

"If this is a jest," I said to the Guildmaster, "it is not at _all_ amusing."

She shook her head with a smile. "I do not jest, Zaden. Whenever a target is killed, their homes, deeds, and possessions come into the _direct_ possession of The Fighters Guild. We are free to do whatever we wish with said property: sell it, donate it, or gift it to worthy guild members.

I offer you, Zaden, in addition to the entire ten thousand septum bounty, the late Dura gra-Bol's estate and all possessions within."

It was a wonder that I did not collapse right then and there. Finally, after crawling from the bottom of the guild, I earned what I have been working toward for the last four months. I no longer had to resort to the generosity of the Tribunal Temple.

I now had a place I could _truly_ call "Home."

I humbly bowed to Eydis Fire-eye. "I am _eternally_ grateful for what you have done, Guildmaster," I said. "I do have _one_ question for you: When can we move in?"

She chuckled. "Once the ownership forms are filled out, you can expect to move in by tomorrow-." She ended the sentence abruptly. "Hold on... did you say 'we'?"

"Yes, I did," I replied with a smile.

"Do you mean to add a name that is not your own to the estate deed as well?"

"Yes, in fact, I do..." I then turned to Zela, who had a confused look on her face. "With your permission, of course," I said to Zela.

Confusion quickly turned to overjoyed shock as Zela's eyes lit up. "Zaden!" she exclaimed. "Do you mean-?"

"Yes, I do," I responded with a nod. "If you wish, your name could be alongside mine, thus making the home _ours_."

Although she never truly said "Yes", her answer was clear enough. With a smile on her face, she wrapped her arms around me tight, resting her head against my chest. "Oh, Zaden," she exclaimed, "you have made me the happiest woman alive."

"And _I_ the happiest man," I replied.

o0o

The Dark Lord sat patiently in his darkened throne, masked in shadow, tapping his dagger length claws against the arm rests. The tapping echoed against the chamber's walls, reverberating for what seemed an eternity.

Finally, the tall double doors slowly opened, and a quivering scamp entered, his head bowed in both servitude and fear. "Milord," it said, "I have done as you commanded. I have brought before you the best assassins Morrowind could muster. They are a group of Khajiits, a small sect of the 'Dark Brotherhood.' Their infamy proceeds them _well_, Milord."

The Dark Lord gave a deep exhale in recognition. "Let them enter," he demanded.

A moment later, a group of eight black cloaks entered. The only features that could be seen apart from their robes were the very tips of their feline noses, the faint glow of their large eyes, and tails that swayed slowly back and forth behind them.

Their leader stepped forward and bowed to the shadowed figure. "You have called for our services, Milord?" he asked.

"Yes," he replied. "There is a certain _individual_ that has become an increasing nuisance to me. I would prefer that this problem be expunged as quickly as possible. _That_ is why I have summoned you here."

"Tell us who are target is, Milord, and he shall be hunted down and killed at once," replied the Khajiit.

"He is a male by the name of Zaden. He is to travel from Balmora to Suran by means of silt strider in the early hours of exactly two months from now. That is the most opportune moment to intercept."

"What of our payment?" asked the leader. "Your servant promised _untold_ riches."

"That he did," he replied, "and so it shall be." The Dark Lord raised his right hand and made a slight motion. In an instant, the Khajiits found themselves waist deep in gold coins, precious jewels, and priceless artifacts. The Khajiits, all awestruck, reached down and grasped handfuls at a time, letting them spill through their furry fingertips. Then, with another motion of his hand, the treasure disappeared.

"This," said the Dark Lord, "is but a small _fraction_ of what your reward shall be if you are successful in Zaden's death. However, let _this_ be known: Failure will _not_ be tolerated.

Is all clear?"

"Transparently," responded the horde leader. "We give you are _word_ that Zaden shall _die_ by out hands."


	12. The Trek to Suran

Chapter 12: The Trek to Suran

Two Months Later...

I awoke from a deep sleep, nestled in the warm blankets of my bed. The Tribunal Temple bells from across the city rang clear, announcing that it was now six hours until mid day. I looked up at the ceiling for a bit, allowing myself to wake up a bit more. The sun from the East had just risen above the mountains, the light bled through the green glass windows, cast beautiful light across the walls in the third floor bedroom. When I rolled over to my left to wake Zela, she was not there.

Just then, I heard the sound of plate wear banging together, the sizzle of cooked meat, and its aroma wafted up the stairwell. She was already up, and she had made breakfast. I finally ripped myself from the bed, got dressed, and headed down the two stairwells to ground floor.

The foot of the stairwell led to the front door. To my left was a study, half of the walls covered in bookshelves, stacked with books. I spent much of my time there (time not spent with Zela or the guild.) A trapdoor in this room led to a wine cellar, holding not _just_ wine, but a variety of whiskey, bourbon, beer, ales, and, not to mention, our food storage room.

To my right was the kitchen/dining room. This room held a large cabinet that housed all the silverware and cooking wears, a round, wooden table and four chairs about it, and a crackling fireplace against the back wall. This was where I found Zela, toasting bread upon a metal grate and cooking slabs of ham upon a metal pan.

I walked over to Zela as she cooked and gave her a kiss on her cheek. "Good morning, my love," I said.

Zela gave a soft chuckle. "The same," she replied.

"What brings you up at such an early hour? Usually, you have not stirred from your bed until _seven_ in the morn."

"I know. I awoke but ten minutes ago, and you were still in slumber. I was fully awake when I woke and so I figured I get up and suprise you with breakfast."

"Well, it is a welcome suprise," I said, giving her another kiss. "Has the post arrived as of yet?"

Just as Zela was about to respond, a knock came at the door. "There it is," she said with a laugh.

I opened the door to the horse mounted postman. Without a word, he handed me the mail. I skimmed its contents and I closed the door behind me. It was three items: a reminder of an upcoming town festivity, the biweekly "Balmora Bulletin," and... one other letter, enclosed in an envelope. The envelope had no return address, only my own:

Zaden

1817 Main St.

Balmora, Vvanderfell

I opened the envelope. The message within both excited and frightened me.

Dear Zaden,

Greetings. I am quite pleased to see how you have turned out so far. Being transported to a foreign place (without consent, mind you) can be _quite_ a depressing experience. However, you have seemed to take it in _stride_: Protector of The Fighters Guild, a home to your name, and a beautiful woman at your side... You have done quite well with the time _we_ have given you.

Now, before I go any further, let me first explain who "we" are. We, or to put it more accurately, "The Blades," are the ones responsible for your current situation. _We_ are the ones who took you from Cyrodiil, put you aboard the refugee boat, and sent you to Vvardenfell. And, since then, we have been keeping a _watchful_ eye upon you, making sure that you were kept safe from harm. I must admit, that business with Dura gra-Bol had us _quite_ worried. Fortunately, she, in the end, was the one left dead, and not _you_.

Before you become angry with us, listen to what we have to say: you have been brought to Vvardenfell for a reason, for a specific purpose. We have reason to believe that _you_ are to play a major part in this nation's history, to take part in an event that could _very well_ change the course of Tamriel's history _forever_.

What this event is we can not say over letter. We can, however, tell you _in person_.

Today, at high noon, a silt strider will take the journey from Balmora to the town of Suran. You _must _take this transport. Once there, we will contact you, so do not bother finding us. Once we meet, _all_ shall be explained.

From,

The Blades

P.S.: Come armed. I have a feeling you will need them.

I read and reread the letter over and over, to prove that my eyes were not deceiving me. They were not. This was it, a chance to finally find out my purpose here in Morrowind, the chance to get some real answers.

Breaking the news to Zela was hardest thing I had to do. However, she took the news better then I thought. She slapped me only thrice.

o0o

It was now a little before high noon. The town of Balmora was full of life once again. I stood ibefore the Silt Strider depot, Zela by my side. I brought with me my sword and messenger bag, filled with various supplies.

"I think you are crazy," said Zela with disbelief in her voice.

"I know," I replied.

"You get a letter in the mail from someone you do not even _know_, telling you to travel to Suran for _no_ reason, and you just decided to get up and go?!"

"There _is_ a reason, Zela... Whoever sent that letter knows my purpose here, and I intend on finding out what that is."

"But what about what we discussed, our plans for the future: for you to stay in The Fighters Guild, rise to the next rank, and save enough money to start a family!"

"I know, Zela, I know... but I always feel as if... there was always _more_ in store for me... as if my life was all... leading up to something..."

Zela turned to me. "Zaden, we all have aspirations," she said, "but we all have to start thinking _realistically_ once and a while, and you going to Suran on a whim sounds pretty damn farfetched to me."

I sighed. "All right... just allow me go on this _one_ journey. If it turns out to be a dead end, I _promise_ to come back, return to the guild, settle down, and raise a family, just like we talked about. Just please, allow me this _one_ request."

Zela smiled and gave me a kiss on the lips. "Very well, you. You may go... but you must _promise_ me you will come right back by sun down of the next day, ok?"

"I promise," I replied.

With that I headed up the stairwell and hoped onto the strider. The strider was quite crowded today. There were families, mothers with children, young boys and girls, people of all ages and races. After I got on, the driver yelled out to the crowd, "Next stop, Suran!"

"Wait!" A voice sounded from the base of the steps. A hooded figure rushed up the steps and hopped on the strider just as it was leaving, and took a seat next to me. A reptilian tail that poked out from the back of his heavy-clothed green robe, so I safely assumed he was Argonian. The Argonian then pulled back his hood and revealed his face. I was astonished to see who it was.

"Hui?" I exclaimed, "is that you?!"

He turned to me and look of suprise filled his eyes. "Zaden?!" he exclaimed. A huge smile stretched across his face.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," I laughed.

o0o

The silt strider drudged along the tree lined path toward Suran, leafy trees and mushroom trees dotted the trail on each side. A mountain range sat to the left of the strider's route, its peaks shot high toward the sky. Packs of nix hounds roamed the fields to our right, searching for their next meal.

Hui and I sat against the corner of the strider's platform, smoking from a ebony pipe he personally bought. We caught up on lost time, the months that the guilds kept us separated. In my absence, Hui had risen in the ranks of The Mage's Guild, becoming a Warlock, one rank under wizard (where he will be a master himself). He then informed me that Maros, however, at the second highest rank of Master Wizard, still was Hui's master, and forbid Hui from speaking with me. HUi also informed me that he received a profitable job in Balmora as a school teacher of Morrowind history. He is well liked by his students. Today, apparently, he was on a mission from the guild to retrieve a rare alchemy herb from Suran.

When he was finished telling me of himself, he inquired, "What have you done with _yourself_, Zaden?"

I informed him on all that had happened: my rise to Protector in The Fighters Guild, the obtaining of my home, and how Zela moved in with me. Hui was particularly excited to hear that last part.

"That is unexpected," Hui commented. "I _never_ would have thought that you two would develop a relationship, seeing what Dunmer/Imperial relationships are today."

"My thoughts as well," I replied.

"It is strange," Hui said to himself. "When Maros mentioned your encounter, he never mentioned Zela being with you. Why do you think that is?"

"Because," I said with a laugh, "when Maros confronted her, Zela pressed a knife to his throat, spouted a stream of insults at him in Dunmeris, and he ran away scared!"

Hui burst into laughter. "Is that what truly happened?! I had no idea that my master was such a-"

Another voice suddenly called out from the strider. "Such a _what_?" it interrupted.

A Dunmer rose from the crowd on the strider, dressed in a dark blue robe, wizard's hat and a wizard's staff tied to his back.

It was Maros.

Hui and I rose to our feet. "Maros?!" exclaimed Hui, "What in Oblivion are you doing here?!"

"I followed you," responded Maros, "to make sure that my apprentice did not _disobey_ my orders... I can see that you has done _just that_."

"Maros, I was assigned a _solo_ quest, meaning that your very presence of supervision is a violation of the Master-Apprentice Code of Conduct! Besides, I am nearly of Wizard rank, meaning that you will soon no longer be my master!"

"Be that as it may, you are _still _my apprentice, so you are _still_ under _my_ authoritative rule!" His glare turned to me and he shoved Hui aside. "And as for you, Imperial s'wit, I warned you to stay away from my apprentice! You have denied my warnings for the second time, so now you shall pay the price!"

Then, with an open hand, Maros produced a scorching ball of fire in the center of his palm. "When I am done with you, Imperial, your body shall be a smoldering pile of ash!"

Just then, a loud bang sounded from the foot of the strider, creating shock waves that shook everyone aboard. The strider let out a deathly moan, then began to tilt to its left. Those on board clutched the guard rails for their lives, screaming in fear. The strider fell over and hit the ground with a thunderous boom, causing everyone to be ejected off the platform. I landed on my head, and was knocked out cold.

I awoke from my daze with a splitting headache. My eyes were blurred, I could only make out so much. I heard the muffled screams, the crying of children. Then, a furred, clawed foot stomped in front of my face.

The foot lifted, then kicked me in the stomach, its claws cutting across my mid section, ripping flesh. I hunched over, groaning in pain. A voice called out. "Get up!" it yelled. I looked up to the figure who kicked me.

It was a male Khajiit, fangs hung out from under his top jowl, dark golden fur, green eyes looked down on me. It wore a black hooded cloak which kept his face in shadow. His eyes then got angrier. He delivered a second kick to my chest. "I said get up, fucking human!"

I slowly rose from the ground, my muscles shaking uncontrollably, I was still shellshocked from the blast. Using nearly all my strength, I rose to my feet. The Khajiit then delivered a quick punch to my upper back. "Get in line with the others!" he demanded.

I looked over to my left, and against a rock wall was a line of people, all of them passengers on the silt strider. Everyone was forced to sit down, their hands placed behind their heads. Two spaces to the far right was Maros, and near the center was Hui.

I was pushed forward by another blow to the back. I stumbled to the wall, taking a spot to the right of Hui, and when my back made contact to the wall, I felt my sword _still_ strapped to my back. I began to cough, blood splattered at my feet. It tasted like iron.

I looked forward, many robed figures stood before us in a huddled group: all Khajiit, all dressed identical, whispering to each other. I turned to my right and looked upon the other travelers that sat against the wall: some were in tears, some were seriously wounded, some were already dead.

A single Khajiit emerged from the group and pulled out from under his cloak a weapon I had never seen before. It had the stock of a crossbow, two triggers, and where the bolt would be, two metal barrels were placed side by side, about a foot and a half in length. The Khajiit stood before the line and made an announcement.

"Listen up!" he said maliciously. "Here is the situation! We have a very _special_ someone aboard this strider today, someone with a huge price on his head. We intend to collect said price. The person we seek is a male by the name of Zaden!"

I looked to Hui, who looked just as shocked as I.

"There are _two_ ways this can be done," continued the Khajiit. "The person we are searching for can stand up _now_, reveal himself, we kill him, and we will leave right then and there. That is the _easy_ way. The hard way, however, will lead to _a lot_ more bloodshed.

So... which shall it be?"

The Khajiit stood silent, weapon in hand, awaiting a response. No one, not even I, stood up.

After a moment, the Khajiit sighed in disappointment. "Very well," he said, "the _hard_ way it is."

The Khajiit walked to the far left of the line and grabbed the first person in line, a male Dunmer. Throwing him to the ground before everyone, the Khajiit aimed the weapon at the Dunmer's head and asked him, "What is your name, Dark Elf?"

After a few seconds, he replied, "Arren."

The Khajiit shook his head. "Wrong answer," he responded grimly.

The Khajiit pulled one of the triggers of his weapon. A flash of fire spread from the barrel's end, a loud bang echoed off the rock wall, causing my ears to ring. A mist of red blood exploded from the front and back of the Dunmer's face. When it cleared, I heard crying, from two infants of the mother next in line. The Dunmer's body went limp and fell over forward, his face peppered with small holes, rivers of blood flowed from the wounds and soaked into the ground below him.

I looked with amazement at the weapon the bandit wielded. There was such destructive power in that small package. I had no idea how it _worked _or how he came into _possession _of it, but I knew this for certain: he will _die_ for what he did.

The Khajiit then moved on to the woman and her screaming children. He raised his weapon to the High Elf, who still clutched her children tight. "What is your name?" he asked her.

A voice from the group of cloaks sounded, another Khajiit bandit. "Do not be a fucking idiot!" he yelled. "You know very well we are looking for a _man_!"

The first bandit turned back to the other. "I know, I know," he replied.

The children continued to cry, their faces beet red, tears and mucus ran down their faces. They quickly got on the bandit's nerve. He turned back to fact the mother. "But _someone_ must shut these kids up," he said. With another pull of the trigger, the mother was killed.

My heart filled with anger. My blood boiled, my fists tightened, every impulse in my body told me to smite this bandit. But I did not. I knew my intrusion would indefinitely be met with _my_ death. So I sat still, with my rage pent up within me.

The bandit then reloaded the weapon. With a downward flick of his wrist, the barrels swung down upon a hinge. He pulled out two brass cylinders from the barrel ends closest to himself. Then, reaching into a small leather pouch on his belt, he retrieved two more, placing them in the barrels, and snapped it back into place.

With two more shots, the cries of the _children_ were forever silenced.

After reloading the weapon again, the bandit pulled the next person out of line. It was Maros. Hui gasped. "No," he whispered. "Please, do not kill him. He is an innocent." Hui turned to me. "Please, Zaden, do something! He does not deserve to _die_!"

The bandit raised his weapon to Maros's chest. "What is your name?" he asked.

Maros took in a deep breath and stood proud, absolutly sure that he was about to die. "My name is Maros," he declared, "Master Wizard of the Balmora Mages Guild!"

The Khajiit laughed right in his face. "Oh, sorry," he said, "wrong answer."

I sprung to my feet. "Do not _dare_!" I demanded.

All eyes turned upon me: passengers, friends, bandits. The Khajiit wielding the barreled weapon tossed Maros aside, throwing him back into the line. He whipped his head around, now aiming his weapon at me. "What did you say?!" he asked.

"... Do not kill him! I am the one you seek. I... am Zaden."

The khajiit's eyes widened. He gave a small evil chuckle, lowered his weapon, then turned back to the group. "Hey guys!" he said. "I found him!"

From the center of the group, a large robed figure emerged, twice as muscular as any of the other Khajiit. He seemed to be armed to the teeth, including _two_ of the barreled weapons, one for each hand. He walked strait to me, stopping face to face, nearly inches apart.

His voice was deep and sounded like years of chain smoking (smelled like it too). "Well well well," he said, "it took us a long time to find you... a _long_ time." He took a step back. "Yes, we were paid _big_ money to find you, to have you _killed_."

I pressed my luck and asked, "How much?"

"_Untold_ riches, enough to last us the rest of our lives, and we get it _all_ when you are _dead_." He reached for his barreled weapons, grasped one in each hand, then aimed them at my head. "Do you have any last requests before I kill you?" he asked.

I looked to my left toward Hui, who to my suprise, gave me a nod. I knew exactly what was meant by that.

We were to strike back.

I turned back to the bandit. "Yes," I replied. "Your weapons!"

I rose my right knee to my chest and delivered a solid kick to the Khajiit's stomach, causing him to lose grip of his weapons and drop them. Immediately after, Hui, using his magic abilities, spawned raging flames from his fingertips and shot them at the bandit leader, killing him instantly. He then produced blue lightening from his palms and shot it at the cluster of Khajiit bandits. The lightening struck one, but arched to another, then another, then another until every single one of the bandits were hit. Once the lightening stopped, all the Khajiits fell over, charred from the inside, dead.

Once the bandits were all dead, all who were in the line jumped up and crowded the pile of dead travelers. Husbands wept over their wives, mothers wept over their dead children, and a Dunmer brother and sister wept over their _now_ dead father.

Hui came to my side and, of all things, hugged me. "That was incredible what you did," he said. "You saved the lives of everyone here by declaring your identity. Not to mention that you saved the life of my master."

"Thank you, Hui, but _you_ deserve as much, if not more credit than I, for _you_ actually killed the bandits."

"Yes, but if you did not boldly take the stand when _you_ did, I would have not worked the courage to act as _I_ did."

I then picked up the two shotguns of the bandit leader, showed them to Hui and asked him, "Do you have any idea what these powerful weapons are?"

Hui smiled. Apparently, along with being a knower of history, he was also an expert in technology. He went in great detail into explaining what these weapons were, which I later found out were called "shotguns." He showed how to unload and reload the weapons, how to aim properly, fire the weapon, how to clean it, and the different kind of ammunition (shells) that were available for it. By the time he finished his explanation, I became an instant expert in these strange, new weapons. Yet somehow, these new weapons seemed very _familiar_ to me, and I was able to wield them skillfully.

I then took from the bandit leader's body a belt with two shotgun holsters. Putting the belt on and holstering the weapons, I scavenged from the dead bandit horde six ammunition packs and filled each pack with twenty shells, meaning that I had one hundred twenty shells in total. Hui assured me that _that_ would be enough to last me a long, long time. I also took from the bandit's bodies ten other guns, believing I could _sell_ them for profit in Suran.

Hui then became very serious. "Zaden," he said, "we need to do something about the situation we are in. We need to reach Suran before nightfall." He look up toward the sun. "By the position of the sun, that is in about six hours."

I look onto the crowd of the weeping travelers. They were all either injured, dead, or crying. They needed someone to lead them to Suran.

I guess that would be me.

I turned back to Hui. "How long would it take to reach Suran by foot?" I asked him.

He thought for a while and finally responded, "If we take minimum brakes, we should arrive by twilight."

I nodded. I then jumped atop a large bolder and faced the crowd. I stood high above their heads, my white robe gleaming in the sun caught everyone's attention.

"People, listen up!" I yelled to the crowd. "If we are to make it to Suran by nightfall, we need to get moving as soon as possible. We shall leave in ten minutes. Gather _only_ what you _need_, for the journey will be a long one."

I appeared to them an angel, leading them to their protection.

As I hopped down from the boulder, Hui signaled me and pointed to someone still sitting against the stone wall. It was Maros, looking off into the sky, most likely traumatized by the events.

I approached him. "Are you all right?" I asked him.

He slowly slowly lowered his eyes upon me. "You... saved my life," he said. "I... was going to _kill_ you on the strider... and yet it is you who spared my demise." He slowly rose to his feet. "I... do not know how I can _ever_ repay you."

I shook my head. "Think nothing of it," I replied. "You would have done the same for me."

Maros lowered his head. "Actually..."

What an incredible bastard! If it were I, he would have let me be killed! Enraged, I unholstered on of my guns and aimed it toward his chest. "You are a miserable soul, Maros," I exclaimed. Maros quickly raised his hands over his head.

"No!" exclaimed Hui. "Please, forgive him, Zaden!"

I holstered the weapon. "I _shall_ forgive him... but _only_ if he does something in return: give Hui more freedom in The Mages Guild."

Maros nodded. "It shall be done," he replied.

After ten minutes, everyone was just about prepared to leave. They had all gathered up their gear and prepared themselves for their journey. With an "All right! Lets go!", the voyage began. With Hui, Maros, and I at point, we led the group of travelers Southeast, to Suran.

o0o

The sun shined down upon us with warming heat. Various trees and tall mushrooms dotted the landscape, casting a long shadow across the trail we walked. Cool air from a nearby lake wafted across our exposed skin, cooling us off from the mid day sun. It was a perfect day. It was a shame to have it masked by the tragedy that took place.

Hui and I shared a pipe, and I took a long puff from it, holding the smoke in my lungs for a short second, then exhaling it into the air. I stopped and took a look back on the travelers who drudged on behind me. They noticed that I had stopped and looked at me with eager eyes. They saw me as their savior: the white robed Imperial who led them from death at the hands of bandits, who led them from no-man's land to their destination of Suran.

To them, I was a God.

After three hours of walking, I turned back to the group. "Ten minute break!" I announced. "Take this time to drink, eat, rest, whatever you see fit." Everyone immediately followed suit and settled down in several groups along the trail's path.

I sat down on a flat rock along with Hui. He reached into his bag and pulled out skin of beer, offering me a sip. I gladly excepted. I _needed_ it after what had happened. I took a long drink from the skin, the alcohol flowing smooth down my throat, warming me from the inside. I took another puff from Hui's pipe, the burning tobacco leaving a smoky taste in my mouth. I felt a small sensation of bliss overtake my body, and before I knew it, the ten minutes were up.

As I got up from my seat and handed the pipe back to Hui, I heard a few horrified gasps to my right. A few of the followers were all pointing to a figure to my left. I turned to where they all pointed and saw the sight of a strange creature.

Out in the middle of a small grass field was a large bird like creature feasting upon the corpse of another animal. The bird had black, lizard skin and a pointed beak lined with blood soaked teeth. This strange predator had two sets of wings: one that laid horizontally, which it used as front legs and another that laid vertically. When they were not being used, these wings were folded back against his slender body. The creature made horrible screeching noises as it took large chunks of flesh from the body.

I turned to Hui. "What is that beast?" I asked him.

In a solum voice, he responded, "Cliff Racers." When I asked what they were, he told me that they were dangerous creatures, that they hunted in packs of more then five. They strike without warning and without mercy. They appeared over one hundred years ago, and in that time, they overpopulated and took over the former rulers of the Morrowind skies: the Dragons.

"What should we do?" I asked. "It does not look friendly at all.

Hui responded, "Be that as it may, we should let it be. If we leave it alone, it might let us pass."

"And what if it does not?" I asked.

"Learn to use those guns quickly," he replied.

With that, I made a hand gesture toward the crowd to keep quite. We then continued Southeast, trying not to provoke the Cliff Racer in any way. I suppose I found myself lucky that we were not attacked right then and there.

We continued along the dirt track for another three hours or so. The sun had fell in the sky and the darkness of the night was inching ever forward. Everyone following me was sweaty, tired, thirsty, hungry, and all praying to reach their destination. When we reached a small gorge, all our prayers were answered. Across the gorge, separated only by a small rope bridge was the town of Suran. The town glowed with the flames of street lamps, appearing to all like the kingdom of the afterlife itself. We could not have crossed that bridge any quicker.

As soon as everyone had crossed, a group of Imperial soldiers, all mounted on brown horses, came galloping in to intercept us. The leader of the group, clad in silver armor, turned to me, who looked to be most _distinguishable_ of the group.

"I am Lars Galren, leader of The Imperial Legion here in Suran. We have received news of your attack earlier today. We have set up a recovery area on the other side of town. Follow me."

As the mounted legion soldiers turned to lead the way, the crowd of travelers let out a sigh of relief. After a day's worth of travel, we finally reached our destination. We all followed the soldiers through the town, the lanterns shown on our worn and dirty faces, the horses hooves clattered against the stone streets, echoing off the buildings.

I turned to Hui, his face was as bright as the midday sun. "Why was it so important we reach Suran by nightfall?" I asked him.

Hui chuckled. "Because I am afraid of the dark," he replied.


	13. Secrets Revealed

Chapter 13: Secrets Revealed

I awoke the next day in the recovery area's bedrooms. They were a series of bunk beds arranged in rows. This is where, along with I, the victims of the bandit attack slept. The room was crowded, over fifty people slept in the hundred by hundred foot room, the bunk beds spaced no more then three feet apart. I did not sleep too well last night. There were children that did not seem to stop crying until two hours after midnight.

I got out of bed, the smell of bulk-cooked eggs filled the room, the sounds of breakfast emanated from the next room. I looked to the top bunk of my bed. Hui was still sleeping, so I gently shook him to wake him. Finally he stirred.

"Zaden?" he said sleepily, "What is it?"

"It is time to rise from our beds," I said. "As I remember, we have work that needs to be done in Suran."

"Very well," Hui groaned. With that, Hui rose from the bed, we both dressed, and entered the next room.

The next room, the "Eating Quarters," was even larger then the sleeping quarters. There were long rows of wooden tables and benches. The people from yesterday all sat down at the tables. Mothers feed children, people feed themselves, and some sat alone with _nothing_ on their plates.

I got into line and received a large plate of watery scrambled eggs, five burnt sausages, and a cup of coffee. When Hui and I sat together to eat, I nearly threw up what I was served. It was, by far, the worst meal I have ever been served, but I kept to myself and ate continently, for I was in no position to criticize. Hui was somehow able to stomach the food. The coffee, however, was the only saving grace of the meal. As I was eating, the people who I helped lead back to Suran were all looked at me, but did not approach. The peace I had to myself was nice (if only for this brief moment.)

After breakfast, Hui and I went back to our beds and gathered all our things. I armed myself with my sword, newly acquired guns, ammunition, and slung my messenger bag across my shoulder.

As I walked back to the door leading outside, people finally recognized me as their hero. They thanked me, shook my hands, and one woman was able to squeeze off a kiss on my right cheek as I walked through the doorway and into the outside.

o0o

The town of Suran was full of life that day, much like the every day of Balmora. There was not a cloud to be seen in the sky, the streets were full of the townsfolk, merchants sold their various wares, street performers entertained the people passing by. A number of Imperial Legion troops patrolled the streets, maintaining order wherever they went.

"Hui," I said, "I never asked you yesterday, but what brings you to Suran in the first place?"

"A quest of The Mages Guild," he responded. "I am to meet with a... hermit of sorts, who is said to live in the mountains North of here. It is said that he knows a 'Secret Power.' Personally, I think this is but a dead end. However, it is not my place to judge, for I am but an _apprentice_."

"Oh, do not despair, Hui," I said. "The day shall come that _you _will give the orders and _others_ will follow them."

"Well, since you have brought up 'giving orders,' I have orders for yourself: buy _yourself_ a pipe. I allowed the use of mine while on the trail to Suran, but I insist you purchase one for your own personal use."

"Very well," I responded, "but I know not where to purchase one. Would you?"

Hui nodded and pointed South, down a pair of stone stairwells that lead to a small market. "Down there," said Hui, "you shall find a building, marked on its entrance by a red lantern. 'Desele's House of Earthly Delights.' As its name implies, you may find _more_ than pipe tobacco."

"Such as...?" I inquired.

"You shall find out once you get there," he replied. "As for me, I must leave _now_ if I am to reach this hermit and return by day's end. Farewell for now, Zaden. Let us meet at the silt strider dock by the six bells of evening."

With a final wave, Hui headed off in the opposite direction, to the western half of Suran. He disappeared into the crowd.

Once out of sight, I took Hui's suggestion and headed South, to the 'House of Earthly Delights." I knew not what to expect inside, but I assumed it was nothing more than an over glorified tavern.

Damn, was I ever wrong.

The first hint of my error in judgment came before even_ entering_ the building. After identifying the building in question, marked (as Hui said) with a swaying red lantern, I noticed a female Dunmer standing next to the door, slender and scantily clad. As I approached the door, she regarded me with a seductive look, complementing it with a teasing "Stay as long as you like, Imperial."

I knew what she meant by that only _after_ I entered.

To call this place an "over glorified tavern" was a _major _understatement. As it turns out, Desele's House of Earthly Delights was more of a _brothel_. The air reeked of ale and tobacco smoke. Red lanterns hung from the ceiling, illuminating the entire room in a soft red glow. The many beautiful females that walked about were scantily clad and topless. On the far wall to my left, a single dancer was performing for a group of three. From what I could tell, they were off duty Imperial Legion guards. A stairwell on the back wall led upstairs (where the customers are "served", I assumed).

As much as I wished to "take in" the sights, I kept reminding myself that I was already committed to a woman. I headed to a counter near the far right corner, where a topless female Breton (magically inclined human) stood, accompanied with her naked female Khajiit slave, bound with an iron bracer.

"Good day," greeted the Breton. "How may I service you?"

"I am looking to purchase a smoking pipe," I replied, "and some tobacco as well."

With that, the slave bend behind the counter and retrieved a trio of items, a wooden churchwarden pipe, a large pouch of smoking tobacco and a smaller leather pouch. With her clawed fingers, she began to fill the smaller pouch with tobacco.

Just then, a loud tumbling sounded from the stair well. I turned just in time to watch a male Dunmer being tossed from the stairwell and onto the floor. As he struggled to get back up on his feet, I noticed many strange things about him: his eyes were bloodshot and crazed, his breaths were irregular, he was as gaunt as a starved commoner, and his skin was pale and ashy.

A guard appeared from the stairwell shortly after the Dunmer (apparently the one who threw him.) "I warned you," he told the Dunmer, "to leave this place. If I ever catch you lurking about here again, I shall take your hand as a souvenir! Now leave!" With that, the Dunmer stumbled out the door.

When I turned back to the counter, the Khajiit was already finished. The pouch was full and, to my suprise, the bowl of the pipe was already packed tight and lit. Pleased with the service, I placed five twenty septum pieces on the counter.

After putting away the leather pouch and bringing the pipe to my lips, I asked the Breton who the Dunmer was. She told me that he began showing up here regularly about only a day ago. He apparently never bought anything, but rather looked to be "_searching_" for someone. When I asked who, her reply made me wish I _never_ did ask.

She replied, "Someone named 'Zaden.'"

o0o

I was scared to walk outside, knowing some drugged up Dunmer was looking for me. When I did step outside, my eyes could not help but scan franticly from left to right, ever vigilant for the Dunmer male. Then, as I began to smoke more from the pipe, the anxiety slowly began to melt away.

With my head "clear," I decided on my next task: sell the weapons in my bag. With ten shotguns tucked away in my messenger bag, carrying my things was starting to become a chore. Selling these would not only lighten the load, but would also put some more septums in my pocket. So, with the help of the locals, I sought out the nearest weapons shop.

Once I stepped inside, my white robe instantly caught the attention of the shop's owner, an Orc who stood behind the counter.

"Hello, sir," said the Orc in a low, booming voice. "What may I do for you today?"

"What you can do," I replied, "is make an appraisal of a weapon." With that, I retrieved a shotgun from my bag and placed it ypon the counter. "What do you know of this?" I asked.

The Orc's jaw nearly fell to the floor. "Do you realize," he said, "what you have in your possession?"

I was not sure whether he was being sarcastic or not. "Guns?" I replied.

The Orc chuckled. "Yes, you are correct, but that is not the _half_ of it. You have in your possession one of the _rarest_ of weapons in Morrowind."

I was shocked to hear such hype from this humble shop keep. I assumed they were _special_, but the _rarest_?. "How do you mean?" I asked.

He leaned in closer. "Have you heard of the Dwemer?" he whispered. I nodded. "It is said," he continued, "that the Dwemer were able to mass produce weapons of this type. There are old stories where a small group armed with these guns could take on an entire army.

Unfortunately, with the death of the Dwemer, so did the production of these guns, and over the eras, they only became more and more rare. Today, the only ones who can ever afford them are the _very_ wealthy, and even so, they are primarily use as decor.

However, _this_ gun here seems much more combat ready. Where did you say you got them?"

"I got them off a group of bandits that were sent to kill me on my way to Suran," I replied.

The shoppe keeper scoffed with disbelief. "I highly doubt that!" he said. "These weapons are incredibly expensive, completely out of the reach of _bandits_!"

"How expensive?" I asked. "I intend on selling the ones I currently have."

"Well... I suppose each would stand to sell at twenty thousand septums a piece." That was twice the amount I had saved up in The Fighters Guild over six months! "How many do you have to sell?" he asked.

I was hoping he would ask that.

Reaching back into my bag, I produced the remaining nine guns, spreading across the counter top. "Now," I said, "if my numbers are correct, this sums up to... two hundred thousand septums?"

Enough to set me for life.

With utter disbelief on his face, the Orc turned to his assistant. "Boy!" he yelled. "Open the money vault!"

o0o

Leaving the weapons shop, I was suddenly as rich as a nobleman. Never before had I ever conceived of obtaining such wealth, but to receive it in _one day's time_ was unthinkable.

Later on that day, I found myself sitting on a remote bench near the edge of town in a deep state of thought. Smoking like a chimney, I pondered a great number of things: Why I am in this strange new world, thousands of miles away from my homeland? Why was a hired band of small time bandits, equipped with extremely rare weapons, sent to kill me?

What was my purpose here?

Just then, a figure approached. Looking up from the ground, a Dunmer stood before me. However, this was no ordinary Dunmer. It was the same crazed Dunmer from Desele's House of Earthly Delights. He stood with shoulders broad, his chest heaving with irregular breaths, pure rage brewing in his blood red eyes, and a silver dagger in hand.

"Finally," he said through his teeth, "I have _found_ you."

"Do I know you?" I asked.

"Most likely not, but _I_ know_ you_. You are the one I am to _kill_." His grip tightened on the dagger. "Where the Khajiits failed I shall _succeed_! Today shall be your death, Nerevar!"

What did he call me?

Suddenly, the Dunmer made a lunge toward me, but before the tip of the blade could make contact, the bolt of a crossbow came whistling over my left shoulder, striking the Dunmer in his throat. As he stumbled backwards, his hand clutching his neck, vainly gasping for air, I heard the sound of fast approaching footsteps from behind. I was only able to turn around half way before the butt of a crossbow struck me in the temple.

I was knocked out instantly.

o0o

The chamber of the Dark Lord was silent, the air still. The two guards stood watch, making not a sound, ever alert, ever watchful. The only sound that could be heard was the roars of the torches that lit the chamber at equal intervals across the walls.

Then, the silence was broken. A clap of thunder ripped through the still air, shaking the walls and ceiling. The sound of mage lightening filled the room, followed shortly by the deathly screams of Khajiit bandits.

The center of the Dark Lord's throne room held spectacle to the smoking bodies of the bandits. The smell of burning fur and flesh filled the air. The Dark Lord raised his hand again and shot another bolt of lightening at the bandits. The electricity surged through their bodies, boiling them from the inside, and finally, killing them.

"This is interesting," said the Dark Lord to himself, his voice a mixture of anger and suprise. "I armed these highly skilled Khajiits bandits with the weapons of eras' past, and even_ that_ is not enough to kill him. It would seem that I have underestimated Zaden."

A lone scamp entered the chamber, his feeble frame shaking with fear. "Milord," said the scamp, "I have received... news of failure from Suran."

The Dark Lord grunted in disappointment. "Speak it," he demanded.

"The Dunmer was unsuccessful in killing Zaden. Also... Zaden has made contact with the informants. Soon, the truth will be revealed to him."

"It is of no significance now," he replied. "He is _still_ of little threat to me, and he shall be _dealt with_ soon enough."

o0o

I awoke with a splitting headache. I could feel a bloody wound on the back of my head. The pain was so intense, I screamed out in anguish. I tried to reach for the wound, only to be halted by iron shackles locked tight around my wrists. I looked around me, only to be met by complete darkness.

"Is anyone there?" I called out, unsure if I was alone or not.

"Yes," responded a voice.

A fireball shot from the center of the room toward the ceiling, blinding me in the process. When my vision finally cleared, I saw a trio of candle lit lanterns hung from the ceiling, lined with red paper, casting a glow across the small, square room I was held in. Before me stood three people, a redheaded female dressed in a red robe and two brown haired males, one in chain mail and the other clad in steel armor. All were Imperial. All of them shared an insignia on what they wore: a coat of arms with two swords crossed behind it.

They were of The Blades.

"Ok," I said with anger, "just who in Oblivion are you three?" The three Imperials met my question with blank stares. "Answer me, damn you!"

The male Imperial to my left, clad in chain mail, took one step forward. "We apologize for any inconvenience, Zaden," he said.

That only further enraged me. "Apologize?! What gives you the right to ask for forgiveness?!"

The red headed Imperial slowly walked behind me. "Allow me to heal the your wound," she said. She then pressed her hands against the throbbing abrasion on my scalp. A white light appeared from behind me, reflecting against the walls about me and, in an instant, the pain melted away.

"You have yet to answer my question," I said. "Who are you three and... how did you know my name?"

"Who _we_ are is not important," responded the Imperial in chain-mail. "What _is_ important is who _you_ are."

"Why do you further avoid the question? I demand a strait-forward answer!"

He did not do as I demanded, but rather presented me with a question. "Zaden... What do you know of the Nerevarine Prophecy?"

Now _that_ is something I have not heard of in a long time, not sense my first encounter with Hui. "If you speak of Nerevar," I replied, "I know that he was a great hero who, thousands of years ago, failed to slay Dagoth Ur. The prophecy is that he is to be reincarnated and finally slay Dagoth Ur."

The steel clad Imperial then spoke. "You are correct," he said. "The Goddess of Dawn an Dusk herself, Azura, proclaimed that Nerevar would return to Morrowind and finally put an end to Dagoth Ur's reign of terror."

"Why do you tell me this?" I asked.

The Imperial sighed. "Because we believe the reincarnation of Nerevar... to be you."

I knew it... They were insane.

"You must be mentally ill," I retorted. "Such a claim can _not_ be true."

"But it is, young Imperial... at least, we believe so."

I watched his face as looked away. "You seem uncertain," I said.

He turned back. "There has always been uncertainty, Zaden, but we can not be _entirely_ sure until you have spoken to Her."

"Who is She?"

The female unlocked the iron shackles from my wrists. "Follow us," she said. "All shall be explained."

o0o

I followed the Imperials into a maze of hallways and downward stairwells. With each stairwell taken, the air grew colder and more damp. We walked for what seemed an eternity until, finally, we reached a strange door, made from a solid slab of copper. It had not doorknobs, nor locks, and seemingly no way of opening it.

The female reached into her pocket and retrieved a silver ring. She put the ring on and pressed her palm against the cold metal door. With a deep breath in and out, the ring flashed with white light and the door instantly swung open, revealing a pitch black room. "Enter," she commanded.

"You will not enter as well?" I asked.

"You must enter the chamber _alone_. There, The Wise Spirits will judge you. Only then will it be known if you are _truly_ Nerevar Incarnate."

So, with slow steps, I walked into the dark room. The room was _so_ dark, I could not even see my own nose. I held my hands out in front of me, wildly waving them from left to right, feeling out the cavern walls. I inched along the damp path, cold air howled throughout the tunnel.

Suddenly, light shown before me. The ghostly images of three cloaked figures appeared before me, their faces hidden behind the shadows of their hoods. All stood in a line before me. The middle one spoke in a loud, echoing voice.

"Step forward, Zaden," it said.

And so I did, inching ever forward until I was within a few feet of the spectral beings. They then approached, circling me in a clockwise motion, whispering words amongst themselves. I could not make out _much_ of what they said, but I was able to comprehend a few select words. I heard them say words like "interesting", "a grim future", and "dire challenges before him." After what seemed an eternity, they stopped their circling, returned to their lined formation. They then suddenly disappeared from sight.

A few seconds later, another spectral being appeared before me: a beautiful elf-like woman. She floated only a few inches above the ground. She had pale blue skin and wore a long, flowing white robe. She was the same woman that saved me from my nightmare so many months ago, who spoke to me just before I awoke on the refugee boat. Overcome with shock, I fell to my knees.

She spoke with a backwards echo, echoing the words she spoke _before_ she even said them. "Stand, Zaden," She said in an both alien and friendly voice. "Your eyes do not deceive you. I am the one who appeared in your dream. I am... Azura."

I froze in place, my mouth hung open in total shock, unable to contemplate words in response. Before me was the Dunmer goddess Azura. Before I could speak, She continued.

"I have been watching you ever since your arrival to Vvardenfell. I have witnessed your transformation, from frightened outlander, to brave warrior, Protector of The Fighters Guild.

Now, I stand before you to reveal a _truth_ to you."

I rose to my feet.

"As you are well aware, Indoril Nerevar was slain by Dagoth Ur many years ago, when the island of Vvardenfell was still young. When news of the travesty reached me, I swore vengeance against Dagoth Ur. I declared that Nerevar would be reincarnated and take revenge against Dagoth Ur. I am now certain that Nerevar's reincarnation is you, Zaden."

I finally drew the courage to speak to her. "I have already been told this," I said. "Not to question your wisdom, but I must ask: How can you be so certain? I am but a simple man. How could I be connected to such greatness?"

"The signs are clear," she replied. "The aura about you, the spiritual energy you emanate, is powerful. In many ways, it is reminiscent of Nerevar. The way you speak, your stance, your very personality mirrors that of Nerevar. "

"Something tells me that there is more to this," I said.

Azura smiled. "Your perception is to be admired.

During Nerevar's younger years, I spoke to him _personally_. I told him of the challenges later life would present him. I told him that he was to face a great evil in his future and that he needed to prepare for the inevitable. He did not take well to the news. A long life of disappointments made Nerevar stubborn, unable to comprehend the destiny laid before him. In light of this, I told him to take a journey, a journey that would take him across Vvardenfell, in the hopes of him finding enlightenment, to bring calm to his soul.

And so he did. Leaving all behind him, he undertook a great travel, traveling across the entirety of Vvardenfell, in the search of enlightenment. Along the way, he displayed many heroic deeds: slaying demons, aiding the needy, giving hope to the various people he came across. As his fame grew and his name was known throughout Morrowind, a large pilgrimage of people followed him where ever he went, grateful to stand in his presence.

After six months of travel, he found enlightenment in the eastern Grazelands, under The Tree of Dawn, the first living thing in Vvardenfell. Planted long ago in the First Era, it was Vvardenfell's first plant life, and from it, _all other_ life on Vvardenfell was sprung. It was there, within the tree's trunk, that Nerevar meditated for seven days, searching for inner peace. When enlightenment was reached, he unlocked his inner Mage abilities, making him a more powerful magic user then he _ever _thought possible.

Now, thirty six centuries and two eras later, The Tree of Dawn is where you, Zaden, must go. You must travel Eastward to the Grazelands and find enlightenment under The Tree of Dawn, just as Indoril Nerevar did before you. Along your journey, a series of trials will be set before you, where your fortitude will be put to the test. Also, as was before, a pilgrimage of the faithful will accompany you. I implore you to keep them well and safe."

So this was it. My destiny. The struggle I was to endure, the journey I was to undertake, the person I was to become. I had always sensed that I was always destined for something great, something of significance, but _never_ did I imagine something of this magnitude.

I kneeled before Azura. "I shall do as you command," I said. "I shall travel to The Tree of Dawn... but I do not know the way."

"Worry not, Zaden," She assured me. "Meet at the threshold of Vivec in one month's time. _There_ is where the pilgrimage shall begin and where your path shall be revealed. In the meanwhile, prepare yourself in any way you can. Master your weapons, quest for artifacts of power, whatever it may be."

"I am truly honored, Azura. I shall do as you have told. Now, I must take my leave."

"Please, Zaden," She said, "allow me." Azura then held out her left hand and expelled from it a ball of purple light. The moment it struck me, I felt my muscles become instantly limp, and I blacked out.

o0o

I awoke to the rhythmic swaying of the silt strider as it drudged down the winding, dirt roads. The evening sun shown near eye level into my face, warming it. I sat up and looked about me. The city of Balmora was just within sight, peaking behind the mountains. I looked about where I sat to find that all my possessions were laid on the strider floor: my guns and holsters, my sword and sheath, and my messenger bag.

The strider reached the loading dock. As I hopped off the platform, several people took my place upon the strider. I followed the familiar streets of Balmora, homeward bound. All the way, my mind was fixated on one single thought.

How am I going to relay the news to Zela?

Once I reached home, I poked my head through the door, trying to make as less noise as possible. Zela was sleeping at the dinning room table, her head resting atop its surface. She must have waited there for me all day. As I crept inside, a strong breeze blew outside. The gust was strong enough to rip the doorknob from my fingers and slam the door shut with a defining bang.

"Shit!" I exclaimed out loud.

She jumped from her chair and looked toward the source of the noise, only to see _me_. Her eyes met mine and instantly, sheer anger flooded across her face. She stood up, marched strait toward me and greeted me with a slap across the face.

"Where in Oblivion have you been?!" she exclaimed. "Do the words 'return in two days time' account for anything to you?! I have been worried sick for the past three days!"

I could not believe what I just heard. "Three days?" I asked.

Just then, I heard the hurried foot steps come down the stairwell. It was Hui.

"Well well well," he said, with great anger and irritant in his voice, "look who decided to show up. Who the fuck do you think you are?" This was the first time I had ever heard Hui swear. "How _dare_ you leave me in Suran like that! We were to meet at the silt strider at the _six_ strokes of the evening bells. I waited until _midnight_ of that day before I decided to leave without you. Where in Oblivion were you?!"

I interjected before things got out of hand. "It was not my choice to abandon you!" I said.

"Oh, was it?" said Hui. "Then _what_ kept you?!"

I was within an inch of having an outburst, but I stopped myself. I took a deep breath in, then exhaled. "Please," I said calmly, "we all need to relax. I will explain all. Please, you may wish to sit." Hui and Zela looked toward each other in disbelief, but took a seat at the dinning room table regardless. I stood at the head of the table.

"The first day in Suran," I said, "after we parted ways, I went to a weapons smith in Suran to examine those shotguns we retrieved from the Khajiit bandits. He told me that the weapons were very expensive and exclusively by royalty. This implied that it required someone with _much_ wealth to equip those bandits with such weapons."

"Who?" asked Zela.

"This is unknown to me. Also, the weapons smith was able to sell the extra weapons I carried for a... modest price."

"For what amount?" asked Hui.

I reached into my messenger bag, retrieved a small wooden box, and handed it to Hui and Zela. Opening it revealed the entire profit amount of the sold weapons: two hundred thousand septums in bank notes.

"Zaden!" exclaimed Zela. "Are you aware at how much money this is? We are rich! We never need to work for the rest of our lives!" I smiled. I was glad that some good news came home to Zela.

"Is there more to the story?" asked Hui.

I nodded. "The _real_ reason for my late arrival is much more serious. I was taken captive by a group of Imperials, members of The Blades. They took me to some underground cavern where-." I went no further. I was terrified at how they could possibly react if I told them the truth.

"Where what?" asked Zela.

"No, I could not tell you," I said. "You would _never_ believe me."

"Zaden, please tell us. I am just about ready to believe _anything_ you say. How bad can it be?"

I was afraid she would say that. "Inside the cavern... I spoke with..." Here it goes. "Azura."

The room was dead silent, the kind of silence you get in a library... in the center of Nirn.

Hui blinked in disbelief. "Excuse me?" he asked, "If I am not mistaken, did you say 'Azura?'"

I nodded. "Yes."

"As in Azura, Queen of Dawn and Dusk? Mother of the Rose? Queen of the Night Sky? _The_ Azura?"

"Yes," I replied.

Dead. Silent.

I could tell this was _not_ going over well. Not at all.

Zela scoffed. " So what did 'Azura' tell you?" she asked sarcastically.

Fuck.

If they did not believe that, there was no way they would believe what I was to tell them next. "She told me," I said, "that I am the Reincarnation... of Indoril Nerevar."

I expected a slap across the face from Zela. I expected the receiving end of a fireball from Hui. I expected any number of reactions. But when I looked to Zela, I received the worst response in the history of existence.

Zela began to cry.

I just wanted to die right then and there.

"Do not lie to me," she sobbed.

"Zela," I replied, "I am telling the truth!"

Hui, who up until now sat silently, finally took an authoritative step forward. He stepped directly between Zela and I, starring me down with his large, red eyes.

"That is _enough_!" he said. "You only further complicate your predicament by telling these _lies_. Why do you not tell her the truth?!"

"I have _already_ told you both the truth!" I said. "Azura _did _speak with me!"

"Then I assume you have evidence to bolster your claim?" asked Hui.

I opened my mouth to retort... but the words were halted. I possessed nothing to support my claim. I had dug myself into a hole in which I could not escape. I fell backwards into a chair and pressed my forefingers against my temples. I could feel a headache creeping over the horizon.

"This can not be happening," I thought to myself. "What could I possible do to save me from this madness?!"

Hui spoke. "Hey, what is that?" he asked.

I looked up. "What is what?" I asked.

"On your hand, that mark."

I looked on my right hand, but was quickly informed "Your other hand."

On the back of my left hand was a strange design, burned into the flesh: a circle with a thin crescent moon within and a seven pointed star between the moon's points. It was burned in with such skill and precision, then healed so well, it seemed unlikely to be made by _human_ hands.

"What is this?" I asked. "I have never had this mark before."

Hui approached and knelt down. He examined the marking intently. Suddenly, his eyes widened. "I be damned," he exclaimed. "Zaden, you might very well have been telling the truth after all."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"This symbol burned into your skin," he said, " is Moon and Star. Indoril Nerevar was said to have a make similar to this. Moon and Star is a symbol associated with the Nerevarine Cult. They are group who believe in the reincarnation of Nerevar, that one day he would return to slay Dagoth Ur. They believed that the reincarnation would be revealed by the return of the mark."

Zela whipped the tears from her eyes. "Does this mean," asked Zela, "that Zaden was telling the truth? Is he _truly_ Nerevar Incarnate?"

"It is difficult to definitively say," replied Hui. "Zaden, you said that Azura spoke to you. What did she say?"

"Azura said that... in seven day's time, I am to begin a long trek that will take me from the threshold of Vivec northeastward to The Tree of Dawn."

"The Tree of Dawn?!" exclaimed Hui. "That is nearly on the opposite coast of Vvardenfell. By foot, it would take half a year to complete!"

"It is what _must_ be done," I replied. I stood up from my chair. "Azura said the Indoril Nerevar made his journey alone... If for an reason you wish to not undertake the journey alongside me... I will understand."

For what seemed an eternity, no one spoke a word. Suddenly, Zela stood up form her chair and approached. "Zaden," she said, "while I find _everything_ you have said to be preposterous, blasphemous, and completely incomprehensible... the words of Azura can not be denied.

I shall stand at your side, Zaden, my love."

Words could not begin to express the joy I felt. I turned to Hui. "What of you?" I asked. "Will you travel with us as well?"

Hui chuckled. "I suppose I could accompany you, buy it may be difficult to leave Balmora for such an extended period of time. After all, I am still bound to my master and, as you are no doubt aware, it will take _much_ to persuade him."

I looked back to the dining table, to the small wooden box, containing the two hundred thousand septums in bank notes.

I chuckled. "Oh I do not think persuading him will be _that_ difficult," I said.


	14. The Journey Begins

Chapter 14: The Journey Begins

As it turns out, it was _not_ that difficult at all.

First was the task of informing The Fighters Guild. The day after my return to Balmora, Hui, Zela, and I visited The Fighters Guild. When we met with Eydis Fire-Eye, she questioned me as to where I was in the three previous days. I told her everything: the ambush of the silt strider, my private meeting with Azura, and how She told me of my destiny. Her response was... unexpected.

In fact, she acted as if she had _already _known.

So, in light of this and future events, she promised to not only look after Zela and I's home while we were away, she helped arm us with some weapons. Hui was given a small dagger and a better quality long sword. Zela was given a pair of duel broadswords and a few throwing knives, which she quickly tucked away, hidden beneath her clothing. I, however, denied her offer. My guns were _more_ then enough.

Shortly after, we visited The Mages Guild. Hui warned me before we arrived that I, or Zela, was not to speak a word (as I was _not_ of The Mages Guild). With Hui's ability to persuade (and a few well placed brides), Zela and I were able to enter the compound, free from the threat of being _incinerated_ by a mage's fireball. The interior of The Mages Guild differed greatly from that of The Fighters Guild. The lower level held a large dark room, dimly lit by hanging blue lanterns. It was there that the three of us met Ranis Athrys, Master Wizard and head of The Mages Guild in Balmora. I recognized her as the Dunmer who forcibly threw me outside when I attempted to meet Hui before.

Unfortunately, Maros stood to her right.

Standing silently, Hui explained to the Master Wizard _everything_ I had told Eydis Fire-Eye. Naturally, Maros was absolutely outraged, dismissing everything Hui said. I began to fear that, with Maros influencing the Master Wizard, Hui would not be able to accompany me on my journey.

However, if by some miracle, the Master Wizard agreed. Hui was given permission to journey, much to the dismay of Maros. Then, in recognition of Hui's heroic action against the Khajiit bandits, Hui was elevated to the rank of Wizard. Not only did this mean that Hui would be granted the use of a Wizard's Staff (an item that increases the potency of a mage's magic), it also meant that Hui was completely free from Maros's rule.

Maros was enraged to the point that fire, _literally_, flared from his eyes.

Seven days later, the day had finally come: the day we would leave for Vivec. Carrying everything we would need, we left our home in the early hours of twilight, catching a deserted silt strider. Cool winds came in from the Western shore, casting fog over the land. The fog was thick, impeding the strider's progress. What was suppose to be a ride of two hours was easily multiplied two fold.

o0o

As we neared Vivec, the thick fog lifted and the near-noon sun finally peaked through. Zela and I sat at the head of the platform, anxiously waiting for Vivec to appear. Hui, however, sat at the very rear of the platform, smoking from his churchwarden pipe, quietly meditating, wearing a dark green wizard's hat.

Even since his promotion to the rank of Wizard, he began to take his work more serious than ever before. He would spend many hours a day in The Mages Guild library, reading the many books on magic. His dedication to his studies and mastery of such was so profound, he was able to master spells and abilities in seven days that took others months to complete. The Master Wizard commented to me that, "That Argonian is a prodigy. You do not know how lucky you are to have a person of such skill at your side."

Finally, near high noon, the city of Vivec was in sight, the tops of the great cantons came poking behind the landscape. The strider docked at a wooden platform, built into the side of a steep cliff. As we stepped onto solid land and approached the Gate of Vivec, the sounds of many voices grew ever louder and louder. A crowd of nearly two hundred had met at the Gate of Vivec. Most looked to be ordinary citizens. As soon as I got within eyesight of them, nearly all went silent, their eyes fixated on me. I assumed they knew who I was.

As I entered the crowd, a well dressed High Elf approached me. He shook my hand and introduced himself. Like all other High Elves, his voice sounded quite snobby and pretentious. I _instantly_ did not see eye to eye with him.

"Good day, Master Nerevar," he said to me. "I am Lord Kernik, a high ranking consultants of The Blades."

Strange. He called me "Nerevar."

"Greetings," I replied. "I hope you are not here to bound me like the others."

A perplexed look came over the High Elf's face. "Pardon?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Never mind." I looked to the crown that surrounded us. "Who are all these people?" I asked.

"They are the_ faithful_," he responded, "of The Tribunal teachings. They are normal citizens, who live normal lives, who decided to leave _all_ behind for the chance to follow_ you_, Nerevar. It is amazing, really, how the news of your return has spread across Vvardenfell."

"I am at a loss for words," I said. "I was unaware that The Tribunal still had such a following, even after all these years."

"Oh, The Tribunal is strong, make no mistake, and as you go underway with your journey, it will quickly turn into a _pilgrimage_ of the faithful. More and more will join you on your travels.

Now, in regards to that, I have something for you, Nerevar."

He reached into his bag and unraveled a map of Vvardenfell and laid it flat upon the cobble stoned street. "Now we are here," he said, and pointed to the southern most tip of the island, to a city labeled "Vivec." "The Grazelands," he continued, "are to the Northeast, a long ways away from Vivec. Now, the most direct route is through the Ashlands, the mountainous region that encompasses the center of Vvardenfell. This route, while traitorous, will only take two months to complete."

"The Ashlands?" I asked. "Are they not the lands inhabited by the servants of Dagoth Ur, the lands plagued by ash storms?"

The High Elf nodded. "Yes it is," he replied.

I scoffed. "For one from a race that so openly boasts their superiority," I said, "you sure do not live up to it."

A confused look, once again, came over the High Elf's face. "I... do not understand."

"You, High Elf, must have the intelligence of a _Scrib_ if you believe I am going to lead these people into that _hellish_ place! I demand that you make an alternate route this instant!"

The High Elf, startled from my command, looked down to the map and studied it intently. After a moment, he traced with his index finger a path that went along the Southeastern coast of Vvardenfell. "This path," he said, "will lead through much less... hostile environments. This path, however, _will_ effectively add four months to your journey."

"It matters not," I said. "I had planned on taken a journey of that length anyway. _That_ will be the path we shall take."

"Very well," said the High Elf. He then took an ink vile and quill from his bag and traced the path on the map. It led from Vivec, around the mountainous Ashlands and to a point near the center of The Graze Lands. The path traveled nearly the whole Southeastern border of the island. Once the ink dried, he rolled up the map and placed it in my hands. "Good luck, Nerevar," he said. "Your people are ready. They can leave whenever you see fit."

I turned back to Hui and gave him the map. "Hold this for me," I said. "You are the only one of us three that can read it."

Hui nodded, taking the map and tucking it away in a pocket on the inside of his wizard's robe. "I believe," he said, "that before we depart, a speech of some sort is in order." Hui looked toward the gate. "Stand over there, at the gate. I shall help you out."

"How so?" I asked.

Hui grinned. "You shall see."

I walked to Vivec's gates. They were constructed from beautifully stained lumber and sported silver metal bracers. I looked to Hui and wondered "What could _he_ do to aid me?" Hui then did a few quick hand motions and, as soon as he pointed to me, I was suddenly overcome with a great feeling of weightless. Hui cast a spell of levitation upon me. As Hui then rose his finger toward the sky, I rose with it, until he stopped me ten feet above the ground. The crowd of followers all saw my ascension and turned.

All went silent.

I went silent as well. I silently tried to piece together what to say. Then, as I began to speak, the words seem to just come to me.

"My faithful," I announced. "I am _truly_ honored by the personal sacrifices you have made today. I am honored that you stand with me, by my side, in this, a journey to be retold _throughout_ the ages. We leave now for the Grazelands, where The Tree of Dawn awaits. Many dangers may await us as well, but _I_ shall protect you. May Azura's good graces shine down upon all of us, and may She guide us through the unknown." Hui slowly lowered me to the ground, and the crowd applauded.

Once my feet made contact with the cobble stone, Zela ran over and embraced me. "Zaden," she said, "you were amazing,_ truly_ an inspiration."

"I concur," said Hui. "You were truly a sight to witness."

Hui," I said, "you should have _warned_ me that you were to levitate me! Now, nearly two _hundred_ people are under the assumption that I can _fly_!"

Hui chuckled. "Do not worry, Zaden," he said. "If the time comes that you _need_ to fly, I shall be there."

The High Elf returned at my side. "Amazing, Nerevar," he said, "truly amazing. Now, before you leave, I have one last gift for you." He pointed to a small wooden cart, driven by a single mule. "In that cart are all the supplies you will need for your journey: a large tent for the three of you, cooking wears, food, blankets, sleeping bags, portable furniture, as well as a few other things that I think you will like."

"Thank you, sir," I said. "You have been very beneficial to us."

Hui, Zela, and I made our way to the head of the group. I turned to the crowd and called out, "We leave now!" And we did. As I took the first step on my journey, I remembered an old proverb I remembered overhearing.

"The journey of a thousand miles starts with but a single step."

Those words rang through my mind and lifted my spirits as we made our way down the winding trails. A cool breeze from the ocean shielded us from the blistering heat of the noon sun. All were in high spirits as we headed eastward and the first five miles seemed effortlessly.

Then, coming up upon our _sixth_ mile, an obstacle reared its ugly head. Five Dunmer stood in a row across the entire width of the road. All looked identical: shaven heads, wearing nothing but dirty brown pants, and all had a double barreled shotgun holstered at their waist.

The entire pilgrimage came to a stop, unsure as to what would happen. I took charge and stepped forward.

"Identify yourselves!" I demanded.

They said nothing, only replying with vacant stares.

"Identify yourselves!" I repeated.

The Dunmer in the center of the row walked forward toward me until he was within five feet. His voice was smooth, calm, monotone, almost _inhuman_.

"We are but messengers," he said.

"Who's message do you bring?" I asked.

"We carry an offering from _Lord Dagoth_ himself!"

"Speak it or leave us," I replied.

"Lord Dagoth Ur presents you this _single_ offer: join Him. House Dagoth is strong. Sixth House is strong. Dagoth Ur has the power to make you a _God_, and he offers it to you... if you swear his _allegiance_ to him."

"Never," I replied. "Never will I join Dagoth Ur's ranks! No matter the number of times you shall make your offer, my response will be thus."

The messenger sighed with disappointment, then walked backwards back into the line. "Then your fate, Nerevar, has been sealed!" he said.

The five messengers then upholstered their guns, placed the ends of the barrels to their temples, and pulled the triggers in unison.


	15. Disloyalty Among the Faithful

Chapter 15: Disloyalty Among The Faithful

It had been nearly three weeks into our journey, but the prior events _still_ echoed in everyone's mind: how five servants of Dagoth Ur blew their brains out in front of woman, children, everyone.

People _still_ spoke of it.

A regular day's schedule was unofficially set into play. Every day would unfold similarly. We would wake about six in the morn and head off onto the tras at about eight. After four hours of travel, there would be two hours for an afternoon meal. Then, after four more hours of travel, when the sun began to set, all set up camp for the night.

On the twenty first day into our journey, we set up camp in a large grass field, near the city limits of Suran. We passed many towns and small villages as the journey went underway, and as we past more and more settlements, more and more of the faithful decided to join the Pilgrimage. What began with two hundred followers quickly grew to three hundred. Most in the Pilgrimage traveled in groups, as friends or families, and the campsites were set up as such. On that twenty first day, Zela, Hui, and I had set up our tent atop a hill that overlooked the entirety of the Pilgrimage. I counted over fifty campfires that night, and all had about five or six tents circled around each.

The tent supplied to us by The Blades was a giant of a tent, measuring thirty feet in length by twenty feet in width by ten feet in height. We were able to fit out entire cart of supplies in the tent, keeping things sheltered from any weather. Seven oil lamps inside, hung from ropes that spanned the length of the tent, kept the entirety _bathed_ in light. We were supplied wooden tables, cots, chairs, and benches that could be set up by locking the legs into place. The tent that night quickly filled with the sent of beef stew, cooking over a small fire in the tent's center.

o0o

Zela and I, laying on our backs upon a single cot, stared up at the brightly lit canvas roof of our tent. With pipe in hand, I would take long puffs and then blow smoke rings toward the ceiling, watching them rise and rise until they would finally break and disappear.

After a few moments of our peace and quiet, Hui appeared through the front entrance, robed in heavy pine green cloth, green wizard's hat atop his head, hiding his eyes beneath shadow, and a wooden staff in hand. The staff itself was truly beautiful, made from the wood of an ebony tree and placed at its head was a large, clear crystal that shimmered in the lantern light.

"Ah, Hui," I said as he entered, "you have returned! Tell me, have you completed what you set out to do?"

Hui nodded. "Indeed I _have_," he replied in a lax voice. "I have made contact with other mages, members of The Mages Guild. As it were, many from the _Balmora_ Mages Guild were among the ranks of the Pilgrimage.

Also, while I walked among the Pilgrimage, I overheard... many things regarding _you_, Zaden. Or, to be more precise, _Nerevar_."

I sat up from the cot. "Is that so?" I asked. "What was said, Hui?"

Hui slowly shook his head. "Not many a good things, Zaden," he replied. Hui took a seat upon a wooden chair. "They speak that you are _not_ to be worshiped, that you are _detached_ from your people."

"I am 'detached'? What is meant by that?" I asked.

"It is meant that you care not for the safety and protection of those who follow you and, rather, the end goal is all that occupies your mind."

Angered with these words, I stood up from the cot. "That is absurd!" I said. "I care very much for those who follow me!"

"Is that so?" Hui asked. Hui reached the pocket of his robe and retrieved his pipe. "The words of the Pilgrimage speak otherwise."

"What words? Can you repeat any at all?"

Hui took a few puffs from his pipe and blew the smoke from his nose holes. "My words, words merely repeated from another source, are useless. Rather, I suggest you hear the words from their _source_."

"Am how am I to do that?" I asked.

"Walk amongst them, Zaden, under the identity of _another_. Given enough time, your questions shall be answered."

I walked over to the supply cart and searched through the various clothing bags that were supplied to us. Finding a crimson robe, I took off my white robe and threw the other on, putting the hood over my hear, covering my face in shadow.

"I believe _this _shall do," I said.

o0o

I walked through the maze of campsites and fire pits, my head hung low, my hands tucked warmly in my pockets. I kept an ever alert ear, listening to the many sounds that traveled through the collection of tents. Finding one person that spoke against Nerevar, I mean, _myself_, quickly seemed like I was asking for the _impossible_.

Then, as I passed by a camp fire with four tents about it, I heard a beautiful melody played on a guitar. Turning to see who played, I was met with the sight of a Khajiit playing not with a _pic_, but with his filed, dulled claws. Using the claws on his index, middle, and ring finger allowed him to pluck away at the strings with unrivaled speed. It was truly a sight to behold.

Then, as he finished his tune and the friends about the fire clapped in applause, the Khajiit looked up, only to see me, ease-dropping.

"What do you want, Imperial?" he ungracious asked.

"Just enjoying the music," I replied.

"Well enjoy it somewhere else!" It was obvious that I was not wanted.

Then, just as I was about to leave, one of the Khajiit's friends, a male Nord, stood up and waved me over. "Please excuse my friend, stranger," he said. "He is but a tad drunk. Please, join us. There is _plenty_ of room."

I happily accepted his generosity and took a seat opposite of the Khajiit. Sitting around the fire was one _other_ Khajiit, a Dunmer, and the Nord.

The Khajiit with the guitar spoke to me. "Do you like to intrude in other's camping grounds?" he asked drunkenly.

"Oh, calm yourself," said the Dunmer, "he was only passing by and decided to hear your playing."

The Khajiit looked to me. "So, did you like it or not?" he asked me.

"If you mean the music," I said, "I thought it was very skillfully played. I enjoyed it very much."

"Well good," he slurred. "Now, if you excuse me, I going to get another drink." The Khajiit then got up from his seat and walked to the tent behind him, guitar dragging behind him across the grass.

The Nord nudged me. "I guarantee you," he said, "that the _second_ he steps inside the tent, he will collapse in a drunken stupor."

I laughed but, sure enough, the moment he stepped fully within the tent, I heard the Khajiit fall to the ground with a loud thump.

"See, I was correct!" exclaimed the Nord.

"So, what brings you here," asked the Dunmer, "wandering about the camps?"

"Just that," I replied. "I was just wandering about."

"This camp is dangerous at night, you know? You best be on your guard when walking about."

"Who are you? My mother?" I joked.

He laughed. "I am merely looking out for my fellow travelers, members of this Pilgrimage. Even though we move and congregate like a group, this Pilgrimage is more equivalent to 'a group of individuals', if you indulge me the paradox."

"That can not be_ true_," I replied. "Are there not guards that protect you?"

A confused look came upon the Dunmer's face. "You have not been among the Pilgrimage very long, have you?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I have only been a part of it for a few days," I lied. Thankfully, he bought it.

"I see... Well, to answer your query, no, there are no 'guards' that protect us. We are all on our own."

"What about Nerevar? Does he not protect us?" I asked.

The group suddenly went dead silent.

That was not a good sign.

"Nerevar?!" exclaimed the Dunmer. "Bah! N'wah _scum_ he is. I would not trust him to secure a blanket." The others seemed to nod in agreement.

I was appalled to hear such distrust toward me, and from a Dunmer of all people. I asked him "Why do you show distrust toward Nerevar? Did the Dunmer not anxiously wait for his return?... or so I have heard."

"Oh, we did, Imperial," he replied. "We prayed for the reincarnation of Nerevar to come. Now that he has surfaced... he is _not_ as we imagined him."

"Because he is _Imperial_?" I asked.

"_Because_," he replied, "he does not care for his own people!" It was just as Hui said. "His thoughts seem not to lie with his people. Rather, he concerns only on reaching that damn tree!"

The Nord nodded. "I concur," he said. "If Nerevar truly cared for his people, he would spend his time amongst them, protect them."

My world was turned upside down. For all these days, I was under the assumption that I was a beacon of hope for these followers. I was completely wrong. I was failure in their eyes.

The Nord looked to me. "Would you agree, Imperial?" he asked.

I got up, and left without saying a word.

I was crushed. While the words they said were somewhat harsh, they were, unfortunately, _true_. All this time, I thought myself a "hero" to these people. I could not be further from the truth.

When I returned to the sanctuary of my tent, Zela had already fallen asleep. Hui, however, was still sitting upon his chair, blowing smoke-rings toward the ceiling, as if waiting for me.

"So... did you find what you set out to look for?" he asked.

"You were right all along," I replied. "Just as you said, they openly expressed that I was _unconcerned_ with my people. I feel ashamed, Hui, like I have _failed_ them."

Hui stood up from his chair. "Fret not, Zaden," Hui said. "Do not think less of yourself. There is still _much_ time to make up for your flaws, and furthermore, even the greatest of heroes have _their_ flaws."

"I suppose you are corect," I said with a sigh. "Thank you, Hui, for your guidance."

"It is my pleasure to help... but let this not become a_ habit_."

o0o

The next morning, after breakfast, Hui, Zela, and I packed up our supplies quicker than usual. The majority of the Pilgrimage was still packing_ theirs_, which left the three of us with time to spare. Every few minutes, a large cloud of smoke would rise from an extinguished fire pit. I walked through the maze of tents once more, not as the red-robed stranger, but as the unmistakably recognizable Nerevar. Everyone turned to see me, and as I passed, I could hear the baneful remarks they whispered behind my back. To the South, I spotted a large storm cloud on the horizon. I predicted rain would reach us within a few days.

I stopped in the center of a crowd of people that were still packed. As I looked about me, everyone gave me some sort of crude look, but as soon as my eyes met theirs, they quickly returned to their work. I began to wonder why, if it is clear that they no longer respect me, they continue to follow me? It seemed as if none saw me as a _savior_, but rather, a _monster_.

As I looked to my left, I noticed a familiar face: a Nord with brown hair and a huge beard, the same Nord that trashed my name the previous night. He was putting clothes away in a bag, but when he looked up (no doubt noticing the white figure before him), he instantly recognized my face.

"You!" he said, "Are you the man who visited my campsite the previous night?!"

I nodded. "Indeed, I was," I replied.

"By Mara's mercy!" he exclaimed. "You are Nerev-"

"Help me!" The voice of a small child cried out to my left. I turned to see that a small Dunmer girl, about eight years of age, was pinned down by a Cliff Racer, its talons dug deep into her shoulder, hungrily snapping at anyone who ventured close. A ten foot circle of people stood around the Cliff Racer, and no one dared entered the circle, for fear of bringing harm to themselves, or the girl.

As I witnessed the Cliff Racer's vicious snarling at the by standers, a weeping Dunmer female (who I quickly figure to be the girl's mother) approached me.

"Nerevar!" she exclaimed. "I beg you, please save my daughter! That _damned_ creature swooped in from the sky and pinned her to the ground. Please, save her!"

"Fear not," I replied. "I shall save her."

With that declaration, I stepped forward, into the 'danger zone.' The snarling bird, sighting me in an instant, began to fiercely screech at me, while still keeping its talons sunk into the girl's shoulder blades. It reared up strait on its hind legs, standing now over seven feet tall, and spread its wings in an attempt to make itself look larger (and to frighten me).

In the wild, that would have been enough scared off _any_ beast.

But _I_ was not _beast_.

I shook my head at the creature. "That will not work on me," I told the beast. "You will just have to release the girl and _confront_ me."

Suprisingly, my threat succeeded.

Meeting my challenge, the beast released its talons from the girl and slowly began its approach, step by step by step. All the while, it beared its teeth- lined beak and screeched at me.

I upholstered the shotgun on my right and aimed toward the beast's chest. With a pull of both triggers, two shells worth of lead buckshot ripped throughout the beast, ripping it apart on the inside. It died instantly, and its body fell to the ground with a thud. After reloading my weapon and slipping it back into the holster, I crouched beside the girl, who still lied stomach down in the ground. Three bloody holes were stabbed into each of her shoulder blades, not to mention a number of rips and scratched all along her back. Thankfully, she was crying (that meant, at the least, she was _alive._)

I looked up to the crowd. "Is there any among us that is a _healer_?" I asked.

Then, if by the grace of Azura Herself, Hui appeared from the crowd.

"_I_ am a healer," he replied.

Without me asking, Hui walked over and crouched beside me. He examined the girl's wounds. "The puncture wounds are deep," he whispered to me. "No doubt they sliced tendons in her arms, rendering them paralyzed and unusable."

"Will you be able to heal her?" I asked Hui.

Hui looked me in the eyes. "Nerevar," he said, "who do you take me for? An amateur?"

Strange. Hui, in the presence of others, refers to me as "Nerevar." I suppose it was for the best that the Pilgrimage did not know my _true_ identity.

With that, Hui hovered his reptilian hands over the girl's back. With deep breaths in and out, Hui's hands suddenly began to glow a faint blue. Then, as Hui hovered his hands over the length of her back, the scratches and deep wounds healed right before my eyes, leaving only the rips and holes in her clothing. With the pain gone, the girl ceased to cry.

"Are you all right?" I asked her.

"I am now," she replied feebly. "Thank you, Nerevar."

With that, I picked the girl up and carried her over to her mother, placing her in her arms. Hui accompanied me. "She is completely healed," Hui assured the mother, "but I must warn you that she has lost a good deal of blood. I would recommend that she refrain from strenuous physical activity for a few days, until the body naturally creates more blood to replace what was lost."

Tears rolled down her face as she squeezed her daughter tight. "Thank you, healer," she said to Hui. "And thank _you_, Nerevar, for saving her."

The crowd applauded. They gathered about Hui and I, thanking and praising us for our heroic deed. A select few chanted "Praise Nerevar". I shook hands with the many that held out before me. Then, as I began to walk back to my site, I noticed ahead of me the Nord from the previous night, his eyes _wide_ with shock.

As I approached him, I halted and turned to him. "How was that for 'protecting my people?'" I asked him.

Hui laughed.


	16. Molag Mar

Chapter 16: Molag Mar

One Month Later...

Zela and I walked together, hand in hand, near the middle of the Pilgrimage, or as the people called it, the "Traveling Market". Aptly named, for in the center of the Pilgrimage was where all merchants were. A convoy of many covered wagons, all pulled by various beasts and animals, had merchants yelling and calling out to the passerbys, attempting to sell their various wears. There were blacksmiths, pawn brokers, outfitters, and merchants of many different things, such as animals, jewelry, food, weapons, rarities, and so on and so forth.

This was the first time since Zela and I _began_ the journey that we truly got a chance to spend time together. I wanted to make the best of it for I was not sure if ever a chance would come_ again_. At one point during our walk, we passed a merchant selling flowers and, while still walking down the trail, I bought a small bouquet of Coda Flowers for Zela. Coda Flowers are bulb like flowers that glowed a pale blue light.

"Zaden," she said, "these flowers! They are my favorite! How did you know?" She held me by my right arm and leaned her head against my shoulder.

"Lucky guess," I replied. The truth was that Hui told me.

"Zaden, I may be mistaken, but you seem to be in a particularly _better_ mood this day. Might there be a reason for this?"

Indeed there was. For the longest time, I had imagined this moment.

Today, I was finally going to ask for Zela's hand in marriage.

Everything had to unfold perfectly.

"Zela," I said, "we have been together for... how long?"

"Many months, as I am aware of it," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I must utter this to you: Every day I spend with you is like a blessing, a gift bestowed by Azura Herself. I never feel more joyous than when I am with you. Zela, I have never loved anyone more than I love you."

She began to blush. "You speak so kindly, Zaden. Now I _know_ something is up."

"Zela, there is something I _must_ ask you," I said.

"What is it?" she asked.

This was it.

"Zela, will you marr-"

Suddenly, a strange occurrence came over the Pilgrimage. The words "Halt!" traveled across its entirity. Soon, everyone (merchant wagons and people alike) came to a abrupt halt.

Zela began to looked worried. "What is happening?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "I do not know," I replied. "Why has everyone come to a stop?"

Just then, Hui appeared from the crowd, running toward us at sprinting speed. His face showed nothing but fear and worry.

"Nerevar!" he said. "There has been a terrible occurrence!"

"What goes on?" I asked him.

"Quickly, follow me to the head of the Pilgrimage. There will be another there who can better explain what has happened."

With that, Hui, Zela, and I raced to the Pilgrimage's start. Once there, we were met with the sight of a Dunmer male who looked to be _ravaged_ by war. His clothing was ripped, burned, and stained by his own blood, large scars marked his face, and his right arm hung limp and unusable.

When his eyes met mine, they lit up with hope.

"Nerevar!" he exclaimed. "Thank Vivec you have arrived! A great and evil occurrence has befallen the city of Molag Mar!"

"What has happened, Dunmer?" I asked him.

"A few days ago, the city of Molag Mar was seized by horrible, demonic beings. They were daedra, clad in full suits of daedric armor, and wielded powerful daedric weapons. Our armed defenses never stood a chance. These daedra shared horrible, black faces, blood red hair, and eyes that glared with the fires of Oblivion."

Hui's eyes widened. "Dremora, by the sounds of it," he said.

"They attacked without warning," continued the Dunmer. "They ripped through our defenses with the quickest of ease, and then began to slaughter anyone that crossed their path. After many were slain, those that_ still_ lived were captured by the Dremora and are _currently_ being held hostage.

_I_ was one of the hostages. For many days, I was detained with the many other citizens of Molag Mar. Then, on this very day, I was released, but was by no means _free_. When they released me, the head Dremora ordered me the following:

'Travel Westward to the main road, then _follow_ it westward. _Nerevar_ walks that road. Seek him out and bring him to us alive. If you _fail_ to do so, the blood of Molag Mar shall be on _your_ hands.' Then, to drive the message home, he crippled my arm."

"Bastards!" I exclaimed. "We must go to Molag Mar at once!"

"Zaden," said Hui, "this could very well be a trap-"

"I do not care!" I replied. "The lives of Molag Mar hang in the balance, and they could very well be ended if I do not show." I looked to the Dunmer. "Where be this city of Molag Mar?" I asked.

The Dunmer pointed to a road that lead South. "This road leads to the city's gates," he said. "_There_ you will find the Dremora awaiting you."

"Thank you, Dunmer. Seek out a healer amongst the Pilgrimage." I turned to Hui. "I will need your assistance if I am to confront the Dremora. Will you aid me?"

Hui replied with a nod of his head. "I stand with you, Nerevar, in all battles, great and small," he replied. "The city of Molag Mar is but a few hours walk from our current position, so I suggest we_ run_. How are your sprinting legs, Nerevar."

"I have not lost them yet," I replied.

o0o

Taking Hui's advise to sprint, we immediately set off at full speed to Molag Mar. Now normally, when someone suggests to "run", you would expect the suggester to do the same. Not Hui, though. Apparently, I underestimated his expertise as a mage. While I _literally_ ran the entire way to Molag mar, Hui levitated, easily matching my running speed. By the time we reached Molag Mar, I was nearly out of breath and Hui had wasted not a _shred_ of energy.

Molag Mar itself suprised me in many ways. If one were to physically lift up a single canton of the city of Vivec, transport it a few hundred miles East, setting it down in the center of a remote lake, and finally removing its green glass dome, the city of Molag Mar would be the result. Hui and I finally laid out eyes upon this city atop one of the many hills that enclosed on nearly all sides, save the path leading to its main entrance. There, on the bridge that connected Molag Mar to the lake's shore, was the entire population of the city (or what was left of it), their hands bound behind their backs.

And there, surrounding the city's citizens, were the ever watchful daedric clad, heavily armed Dremora. The second I set my eyes upon them, my heart instantly filled with dread, for they looked _exactly_ like the being from my nightmare.

I turned to Hui. "The situation looks grim," I told him. "The Dremora surround the hostages like files upon a rotting corpse. I am to confront these daedra directly, but I fear that if I _do_ so, I risk the innocent's slaughter. What you suggest, Wizard?"

"Confront them," replied Hui.

"But I just said that-"

"I shall _accompany_ you... without the Dremora knowing it. Observe, Zaden."

Hui took a single step back and, with a motion of the hand and a near silent incantation, Hui disappeared completely from sight. I began to franticly look about me, wondering where Hui went.

"Fret not," said Hui's voice from his invisibility. "I am right at your side, Zaden. With this 'cloak of invisibility', I shall accompany you as you confront the Dremora. However, I must warn you of the invisibility's limitations. If I am to cast another spell, be it a healing spell of a offensive spell, the cloak will be ripped from me, and I shall be visible once again."

"Well, since that be the case," I said, "do not use another spell unless it is _absolutely_ necessary."

"I shall," Hui replied. "Now, let us kill some Dremora," he gladly said.

With that, I, with Hui silently trailing behind, began our walk to Molag Mar's main entrance. As Hui and I approached ever closer to the bridge, we got a better picture of the force that detained the hostages. Four Dremora stood watch over the captives: the two that stood _before_ the captives wielded powerful daedric weapons, one a long sword and the other a double bladed ax, and the two that stood _behind_ the detainees were _obvious_ mages, clad in deep black mage robes.

As I took my first steps onto the bridge, I whispered aside to Hui "Stand close."

Before I even walked a quarter way across the bridge, the long sword wielding Dremora approached with the ax wielder accompanying him.

"Nerevar!" the Dremora announced in a deep and evil voice, "you have at last arrived! It would seem that our messenger was _successful_ in reaching you, was he not? It is good that you have arrived when you did. A moment later... and we would have begun _cleaving_ the heads of our captives."

"But I _have_ arrived," I said to the Dremora, "so now, we begin our negotiations."

"Negotiations?" asked the Dremora. "Never did I express the notion of negotiation. Besides, what is there to discuss with _you_?"

"I am here to discuss the _release_ of the hostages."

The Dremora burst into malicious laughter, with his associate shortly joining in. "Do you take me for a _fool_, Nerevar?!" he asked. "I have _no_ intention of releasing these pathetic commoners. These meat-bags were merely _bait_ to lure you here, so we may _capture_ you."

"Why capture me?" I asked.

"To bring you to our Lord, Dagoth Ur, of course. No doubt you have heard of _Him_? We will be _richly_ rewarded for your apprehension, Nerevar, and with you out of the picture, nothing would stand in His way."

"And what are you to do with the hostages?" I asked, fearing the answer.

"Why, _dispose_ of them, of course. There usefulness has ended, and so there mortal coils must be cut." The dremora turned to the pair of mages. "Kill these inferior-"

Bang.

With both of my guns aimed at the Dremora's heads, and with a pull of all four triggers, two shells of lead buckshot ripped through both their skulls, splitting them open like rotten fruit. The second the Dremora's headless bodies fell to the stone floor of the bridge, the Dremora mages began their assault upon the hostages. Wielding flaming fists, the pair let loose great fireballs into the grouping of innocents. I watched in horror as people burned _alive_.

"Hui!" I screamed. "Kill the mages!"

Hui dropped his 'cloak of invisibility' and once more came into sight. With lightening surging through his arms and his eyes locked upon the two mages, Hui launched a powerful bolt of lightening from each hand, which streaked across the screaming hostages, and struck each mage in the chest. The electricity coursed throughout their entire body, causing uncontrollable muscle spasms until, finally, killing them.

With all opposition dead and as I reloaded my guns, I ordered Hui to "Walk amongst the hostages and heal who you can." Hui did just that and ran to the wounded innocents. As Hui healed, I took notice to how the Dremora before me were _well_ equipped and wondered if I could swap my gear with theirs.

Besides, they did not need it. Not_ now_.

The Dremora warriors were clad, head to toe, in a strange set of plate mail armor, the metal was a deep black with swirls of blood red throughout, making it look demonic, but powerful. I unsheathed my sword and with a powerful swing, struck the blade against the armor, to test its strength. The armor was so strong, the steel blade shattered upon contact.

"Impressive armor," I said to myself, "but armor is _far_ too heavy for my liking. It would be more of a hindrance than an aid. However... if his sword is of the same material..."

I removed the sword and sheath from the body and slid the blade out only a fraction. Indeed, the blade was of the same metal as the armor, so I removed my sword and replaced it with the other. Further examination of the body revealed nothing else of use. Examination of the other body yielded the same result: nothing.

Once I was satisfied with what I could lift off the Dremora's body, I returned to Hui's side, who was quite busy healing the hostages. Much like what he did with the girl that was attacked by the Cliff Racer, Hui hovered his hands above the wounds and they healed before our very eyes.

"How many more are there to be healed?" I asked him.

Hui finished healing one last burn mark. "Finished," he replied, then stood up. I noticed a saddened look on Hui's face. "Unfortunately," said Hui, "not _all_ were spared."

"What do you mean?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Fifteen were killed by the mages' fire." Hui lowered his head. "I am sorry, Nerevar."

Guilt ripped through me like a hot knife through butter. I instantly began to regret the action I took. If I had not acted so rashly and killed the Dremora when I did, the innocent hostages could have been spared. But what could have been done differently? I knew not the answer.

"Nerevar," said Hui, "we _must_ bring these people to safety, to the Pilgrimage. I would advise we leave soon, in case of _other_ hostilities arriving."

I nodded. "Very well," I replied. I looked to the people and made a brief address. "People of Molag Mar!" I addressed. "We leave now Westward, to the safety of the Pilgrimage. There you will find food, shelter, and whatever else you desire. Follow close."

With that, Hui and I and all others walked across the stone bridge and followed the Westward path leading away from Molag Mar. The journey back took longer than the journey to, for I dared not force these traumatized souls to sprint (nor would they have lasted.) After three hours, we finally returned to the pilgrimage, where Zela awaited me with her beautiful smile.

o0o

The Pilgrimage camp that night was set up in an abandoned crop field twenty miles away from Molag Mar. Hui, Zela, and I, as usual, set up our large tent atop a hill that overlooked the rest of the Pilgrimage base camp.

That night, nothing except the people that were killed in Molag Mar left my mind. I could only reflect on that I, somehow, was _responsible_ for their deaths. Even if I _could_, somehow, get my mind off such thoughts (which seemed impossible), the guilt would still remain, penetrating me like the buckshot of one of my guns.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, my head bowed toward the ground, Hui and Zela appeared through the entrance of the tent. Seeing that I was _still_ in distress, Zela took a seat next to me and leaned her head on my shoulder, in an attempt to comfort me.

Nothing could comfort me now.

"Zaden," said Hui, "I hate to bring you news of Molag mar, but for the fifteen departed, a funeral shall be held in the early morn of tomorrow. Also... the holy men who lead this funeral ask of _you_ to say a few words in their honor."

I slowly lifter my head and look to Hui. "Why?" I asked. "Why do they wish me there? I let those people _die_, Hui. I do not deserve to say _any_ words."

Hui gave a sigh of disproval. "Zaden, you give yourself too much grief."

I shot up from the bed, nearly knocking over Zela in the process, and confronted Hui. "And perhaps you do not give enough grief!" I retorted. "If I had not acted so rashly when confronting the Dremora, those hostages would not have died!"

"If you had not act _at all_," said Hui, "the Dremora would have killed off each hostages _one_ by _one_, until _all_ were dead!"

"What would _you_ know of guilt, wizard? You spell wielders deject all feelings of emotion, and therefore _weaken_ yourself!"

"_Emotions_ are what blind us," retorted Hui. "They blind us from reason and common sense! Emotions can turn the most intelligent of men into irrational madmen! _Emotions_ are what weaken us, Zaden, and as you put more guilt upon yourself, you only succeed in creating your own downfall!"

For some reason, that comment triggered something, and my anger only escalated after that. "How. Dare. You." I said. "You have some nerve to make such a claim! Perhaps it is your uncaring for others that will cause inaction, inaction that stay your hand and, in turn, lead to the death of those you hold dear."

Then, during the heat of our arguing, Zela got up from the bed and headed for the exit. "That is it," she said, "I. Am. Leaving. If you two wish to kill yourselves, leave me out of the crossfire," and she then exited.

A second later, I heard her scream.

Hui and I whipped toward the door. "Zela?" I asked. "Are you ok?"

She did not respond.

I reached for one of my guns and aimed toward door. I called out again. "Zela! Please tell me you are all right!"

She reappeared through a door flap. A man in black clothing and a black cloth over his face had Zela grabbed from the behind and had a knife pressed to her throat.

"Oh, she is _quite_ all right," said the man, his voice evil, yet somehow familiar, "but I can not guarantee she will stay that way, that is... unless you are willing to give into my demands."

"Let her go this very instant!" I said, my shotgun aimed at the man's head.

"Oh, I would not shoot if _I_ were you," said the man in a taunting manner. "If you miss, you could very well hit your pretty little girlfriend."

Zela's face was pale with fear, tears rolled down her face. "It is ok," she said, her voice trembling with fear. "I will be fine. Just _please_ do what the man says."

The man pressed the knife even tighter to Zela's neck. "Look at that," he said, "she is smarter than she looks. I would do what she says."

I was loosing control fast, and it seemed the only way of diffusing the situation was to give in to the criminal's demands. "Very well," I said, "I shall follow your orders."

"Good," said the criminal. "First, I want you to put your weapon down on that table over there. No sudden movements, or my knife might _slip_ and cut something, understand?" I slowly flipped the safety on the gun and placed it on the table.

"Very nice," he continued. "Now you and the lizard get on the opposite side of the tent." Not wanting to provoke him any further, Hui and I slowly walked backwards to the far end of the tent.

With Hui and I far from the criminal, he threw Zela into a chair and bound her hands behind the back-rest of the chair with rope. Then, he began to search through our supplies, looking for things of value. When he was fully distracted, Hui nudged me and gave me a wink.

This meant only one thing: we were to make our retaliation.

Hui made a subtle hand gesture and, in an instant, the criminal's knife disintegrated in a cloud of red smoke. With him now disarmed, I sprinted toward the criminal, grabbed him by the neck, and punched him in the chest again, and again, and again. I did not want to stop, but by the time I was done, I could not lift my right arm. After I dropped the man and he fell to the ground, he took off his face covering and started to cough up blood.

I finally had a good look at the man. He was Dunmer, had a bald head and, more importantly, had only one eye.

I _knew_ this man.

"Jiub!" I exclaimed.

His eyes widened, shocked to see that I knew his name. "Holy shit," he exclaimed, "how do you know my name?!"

I picked Jiub up from the neck. "Do you not remember me?" I asked him. "Think back aways, criminal. Think back to the refuge boat, to an Imperial dropped off at the last moment... Remember now?"

His jaw dropped. "By Vivec's mercy! I do remember you!" I released his neck and he fell to the ground with a thud.

Hui, who had just finished cutting Zela free, turned to me. "Zaden, you know this scum?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," I replied. "I met him on the refugee boat to Vvardenfell. He spoke of how he was a _criminal_ in Cyrodiil and how he can here to _change_ his ways... I can see now he failed to do so." I grabbed Jiub once again by the neck and threw him to his feet. He was now hyperventilating, unable to handle the shock. "So tell me, Jiub, what were you going to do us, had Hui and I not intervened? Were you gonna _kill_ us? Take advantage of Zela? Well?!"

Jiub lowered his head, his face was pale, his arms trembling, tears rolling down his face. "Oh God," he said to himself, "this is not happening."

I punched him in the face so hard he stumbled back a few steps, falling backwards onto a table. "It is happening, you N'wah!" I said.

As he started to get back up on his feet, I reached for one of my guns and pressed the ends of the barrels against his throat. He froze as still as a statue.

"Stealing from the Nerevar," I said. "That is very low, indeed, my friend."

Still frozen, he gasped. His fear was so great, he could not stop stuttering his words. "Y-y-y-you are N-n-n-Nerevar!"

"That is right," I replied. 'Nerevar."

Juib fell to his knees. "Oh damn," he said. "I feel ill. I think I am gonna throw up."

"Well DO NOT DO IT HERE!"

"Damn it. Please do not kill me!" he pleaded. "Please!"

I wanted to. Every fiber of my being screamed at me "Kill him! Kill him now!" I wanted to paint the canvas walls of the tent with his brains. I wanted to parade his corpse around the entire Pilgrimage as an example of what happens to those who do evil. I wanted to kill him in every way possible, and ways that are _impossible._

But... I did not.

"I will not kill you," I replied.

He looked up into my eyes. "Wh- What?" he asked.

"Stand up," I commanded. He did so without so much as a pause.

I moved in closer, talking directly into his left ear, the barrels of the gun still pressed deep into his throat. "I will not kill you," I said. "I will take pity on your _pathetic_ life and, instead, I am going to give you something, something you probably do not deserve: one last chance. I am going to set you free, and if I _ever_ have the misfortune of seeing your face ever again, you had better changed your ways for good. Understand?"

"Y-y-Yeah," he stuttered.

"Leave," I demanded, "NOW!"

Without a moment of pause, he sprinted out of the tent, stumbling over himself.

I would like to believe I made a _lasting_ impression.

Zela walked over to me and tried to comfort me once again, wrapping her arms around my chest, but I was in _no_ mood. My mind was racing with disappointment, how a man who vowed _change_ had just held my fiancee-to-be hostage. Prying the arms off my waist, I walked to the tent door, then stopped.

"I am going out for some fresh air," I said. "No one follow."

The night sky was gray. The clouds on the horizon had finally caught up, blanketing the entire sky, blocking the light from the moons. It was late. The entire Pilgrimage had put out their fires and gone to sleep. The only things that was up were the crickets, whose melodies filled the night air.

I walked south to a small river, no more then thirty feet across. Along the river's side was a large, round, flat rock that sat half way into the water. I took a seat upon the rock and looked over the edge into the water below, at my own reflection. It had been a long day and my eyes had huge black and blue bags beneath them.

I felt that way I looked.

Horrible.

"_Why_ has this happened?" I whispered to myself. "How could I _let_ this happen?" These thoughts lingered in my mind. "Am I _truly_ Nerevar Incarnate? Am I _truly_ destined to lead Morrowind to freedom?"

Azura.

I need your guidance.


	17. The Departed

Chapter 17: The Departed

Morning came slow and steadily. The overcast skies stayed overhead, so instead of the sight of a rising sun, I was greeted with a blanket of gray. The low fog thickened. At times, it became difficult to see my own feet. The air was humid and wet, leaving a thick coating of dew on the grass.

I sat in the same position all night: upon a flat rock next to the river, starring at my own reflection... thinking.

I heard approaching footsteps from behind me. Without looking, I _knew_ who it was.

Hui.

"You are _still_ here?" he asked.

"... Yes," I replied. My voice was tired.

"If you are wondering, Zaden, Zela is ok. Still a bit shaken up, but fine." He sounded tired as well.

"... Good."

"Do you know what time it is?" asked Hui.

"... No," I replied.

"It is about nine now, and you know what happens at noon, yes?" he asked.

"The funeral," I replied.

"Correct. I must ask, what do you plan on _saying_ there?"

"I... do not know."

"Well you best find _something_ to say. People will not think _much_ of the Nerevar when he appears without a _speech_."

o0o

I do not like funerals. In fact, I hate them.

I had seen _enough_ as a child. It seemed like every month or two in my village, someone was being put into the ground. Family members, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and other villagers.

Whenever someone died, the whole village (which was only about one hundred in total) gathered in the local cemetery, built at the base of a tall mountain. They would all dress in black, _pretend_ to cry, lie through our teeth whenever they said 'good things' about the departed, then get _gloriously_ drunk at the party later that evening. In truth, I can not remembered a funeral where we did _not_ hate the person in the casket.

The worst one I remembered was when I was about ten years old. It was autumn, the leaves were changing, and my uncle Marcus had died of old age. It was _always_ a pleasure to see him when he was alive. Every time I visited, he always had a gift for me: clothes, money, pocket knives, whatever. I loved him dearly, more than my own _father_.

Then the day of his funeral came, all the adult family members had _nothing_ nice to say about him. They called him ugly things like 'failure', 'a burden to the family', and 'pedophile' (which at the time, I had no idea what that met.)

I wondered if this funeral would be any better...

o0o

I walked back to the tent. Zela welcomed me with open arms and a hot cup of tea. The funeral was not too far off, so I stripped myself of my weapons and changed into a black robe (a more appropriate color, I supposed.) As I left the tent for the funeral, I overlooked the entire Pilgrimage.

While all the tents and merchant wagons were still set up, they stood completely empty. To my right, to the East, a huge crowd had gathered, all dressed in black. As Hui, Zela, and I walked down the hill and closer to the gathering, I could hear the slow, sorrowful sounds of violins. As I walked through the center of the crowd, I expected to hear many things: crude remarks, obscenities, insults toward the departed.

But to my suprise, not a _word_ was said. All stood silently, with their heads down.

I approached the podium, where a white haired Dunmer, dressed in traditional bishop garb, was just finishing a sermon. In front of the podium were the fifteen bodies. All were arranged the same, set perpendicular to the congregation, each laid upon tall beds of wooden branches. The smell of burning oils was pungent about them.

The Bishop finished his sermon, stepped off the podium, then approached me. Two small children (I later found out to be alter boys) stood by each side: one held a tray of holy water, another held a book of sermons.

The Bishop's voice was old and shaky. "Good day, Nerevar," he said as he held out his hand. "It is an honor to be in your presence," I said.

I shook his hand. "It is an honor to be here, Bishop," I replied.

"I assume you have a few words for the congregation?" he asked.

"I do," I replied.

"Everyone awaits your words, Nerevar. You may go up at any time."

I thanked the bishop and began my walk up the steps of the podium. The violins stopped playing and all eyes shifted to me. After a moment of silence, I opened my mouth to speak, but was instantly stricken with mute. Not a word could come to me. I stood motionless before the gathering, as still and silent as a statue and, before I realized it, a full minute had passed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Hui, with a worried look on his face, mouthing the words "Say something, damn it!"

Finally, I forced myself to say something to the gathering, but the only thing I could muster was "I am sorry." I stepped off the podium immediately after and began heading back to that spot by the river, leaving the funeral gathering in a state of confusion.

Before I could reach my intended destination, however, Hui ran after me and grabbed me by my right arm. "Damn it, Zaden, what in Oblivion do you think you are _doing_?" he whispered. "You can not simply _leave_, especially after that dismal 'speech.'"

"Let go of me, Hui," I said, trying to yank my arm free of his grip. "I said my words, Hui. You can not ask any _more_ of me." After a few more forceful pulls of my arm, I was finally able to release myself from Hui's clutching hand. Without uttering another word, I walked back to my spot by the river. Thankfully, no one followed.

I returned back to the flat rock along the river side. The fog had increased by this time. The humidity that hung in the air caused me to perspire, but soft breezes sent chills down my spine and cooled my exposed skin. Gulping down that last of the whiskey in my flask, my body began to relax, calming my nerves. But even _that_ was not enough. Looking into the water, starring into my reflection.

Footsteps approached from behind. I instantly recognized them as Hui's. He took a seat to my left upon the rock. He sat silently for a few minutes, looking into the river below. Three Slaughterfish (a carnivorous, eel-like fish) swam by.

After the moment of silence, Hui finally spoke. "What is _wrong_ with you?" he asked. "You spoke but three words, then left without paying your respects by attending the cremation ceremony. Is something the matter, Zaden?"

"I let those people _die_, Hui," I said.

Hui vented an exhausted sigh. "Damn, not _this_ again... Zaden, there was _nothing_ you could have done to prevent their deaths. Think of them not as your fault, for it were not preventable... Besides, I can sense that there is _more_ to your behavior then merely that, am I correct?"

I nodded. "That is true," I said. "You see, I-"

"Do not tell _me_, Zaden. Tell, rather, those whom you _abandoned_ at the ceremony. _They_ deserve an explanation."

"Very well," I replied. "Where are they?"

"They still congregate where they were earlier this day."

With that, I sat up from the rock and headed back to the congregation area. Just as Hui said, many were still gathered there. Once I came into their view, the crowd went silent once more. It was then that I began my words.

"I- I came to apologize for my earlier behavior," I said. "An explanation of such is in order.

For the early years of my life, in my small village in Cyrodiil, the funeral was not a time of _mourning_. Among the members of the village, funerals were a congregation of hate, a gathering of individuals who's sole purpose was to spread their hate-filled speech toward others and, more specifically, the departed.

Today, I stood before you and, for the _first_ time in my life, I saw how a funeral _should_ be conducted. Friends, family, and complete strangers, met and paid their _respects_ to those who have passed on. These acts came as such a shock to me that I was left speechless, thus explaining my conduct earlier this morn.

If I have offended any of you in any way, or if I have shown dishonor toward you, I apologize _profusely_, for it was _never_ my intent. Now, I only ask for your forgiveness."

Silence lingered between the crowd and myself. Then, one by one, the many families approached and began giving their thanks. Although they never directly said that they forgave my conduct, each family gave small, subtle hints that said to me that they, indeed, _did_ forgave me.

A while after the families gave their thanks and slowly began their leave, Hui and I returned to the comforts of our tent. Stepping inside, I saw Zela asleep on her bed. Feeling no need to wake her, Hui and I grabbed a couple of chairs and our pipes, took seats outside, and began to smoke our tobacco. The smoke was gently blown to the West by a faint breeze.

As Hui and I smoked from our pipes, an unexpected visitor arrived. However, this visitor was not Imperial, Orc, Dunmer, Altmer, Argonian, Khajiit, or any of the other races and (thankfully) was not deadric. Rather, this visitor was a large moth, with wings of pale green silk and a beautiful blue eye on each. The moth fluttered overhead, then landed directly on my left shoulder.

"Damn bugs," I said out loud and I raised my hand, preparing to swat the bug off my shoulder, only to be halted by Hui, who grabbed my arm by the wrist.

"Zaden!" he exclaimed. "Do not bring harm to that creature."

"For what reason?" I asked. "It is nothing but a simple bug."

"This is _more_ that a mere bug, Zaden. This is a lunar moth, one of the rarest of creatures. Few have claimed to ever seen such a creature, and many more have gone their entire lives without seeing them at all."

"Why are they so rare?" I asked.

"These moths are rare because they do not breed here in Vvardenfell or, for that matter, in this _realm_. Lunar moths are the creations of Azura Herself, and they are, therefor bred, in _Her _realm of Moonshadow, a realm of blinding beauty.

This moth has taken a liking to you, Zaden. I would do _well_ to keep it safe and protect it from harm."

I looked to the moth and began to gently stroke its wings.

"Creation of Azura," I repeated to myself.


	18. Rainstorms and Ashstorms

Chapter 18: Rainstorms and Ash Storms

The night of the funeral, a huge banquet was served in honor of the departed. Food from all corners of Vvardenfell, from all cultures was served. I consumed creatures whose name I could not even_ pronounce_.

After the banquet was complete, a solum mood came over the gathering. The pilgrimage gathered about the fifteen bodies, still laid out atop beds of wood and branches, drenched in burning oils. I stood at the left of the podium where the bishop gave another short speech for the dead. Once he finished, one of the alter boys from earlier that day handed me a lit torch.

I knew what had to be done.

So, fighting back feelings of guilt, going from right to left, I lit each bed of wood. The flames spread rapidly, engulfing the entire beds instantly. Everyone stayed and watched the fifteen bodies burn until there was nothing but ash and smoldering embers. Not many people got a full night's sleep.

The next day, the weather turned _worse_. A huge storm cell approached from the South at around midnight. It engulfed the entire camp in a matter of minutes, drenching everything from the smoldering ashes of the fires to the tents that the people slept in. Only tents with _thick_ tarp materials, such as mine mine, could stand up to the torrential downpour.

When morning came upon us, the rain did not slow down in the slightest. It rained with the exact intensity as it did eight hours ago. Never the less, the camp packed up on time and we continued our way East, around the borders of the Ashlands.

Everyone had their own special ways of keeping dry. Large families held huge tarps over their heads to keep off the rain. Those in merchant wagons thought up the idea of selling space inside for five gold pieces an hour. Zela had bought a pink umbrella the other day and used that. Hui, utilizing his ability to summon shields of magic energy, projected one above his head. The drops of water simply rolled off.

I, on the other hand, had a different approach. Instead of _avoiding_ the rain all day, I _embraced _it. Wearing nothing but white cloth pants, the two shotguns holstered on my belt, and the deadric sword strapped upon my back, I happily stood out in the rain, letting it drench me from head it toe. The rain was, strangely, warm. Walking through the rain shirtless, I got many admiring looks from the young woman (much to the displeasure of Zela.)

Continuing down the dirt road, the geography change. What was once relatively flat was now dotted with steep hills. With every steep descent down, a steep incline stood in our path. The periods of climbing tired the members of the Pilgrimage quickly, so much so that we made much more frequent breaks, nearly one every fifteen minutes. At this dismal rate, we were going nowhere _fast_.

Then, near (what I presumed) noon, drudging up a particularly steep hill, I heard faint screeches from over the crest of the hill. As I got closer and closer, the sound grew louder and more familiar. I turned back to Hui.

"Do you hear that?" I asked him.

"Yes, I do," he replied.

"They sound quite familiar, though I can not identify_ directly_ what it is."

Hui listened intently to the distant screeches. He then came to a sudden realization. "They are Cliff Racers," he announced.

Zela gasped. "Are you serious?" she asked.

Hui nodded. "I am afraid so, and by the sound of it, there is a great number of them, just over the hill."

Fearing for the Pilgrimage's safely, I gave the signal to stop, a fist held at a right angle. The message was quickly spread throughout the group, and it soon came to a stop. I beckoned Hui to join me. I signaled Zela to join me as well, but she shook her head in response. "I am a _thief_," she said, "not a _warrior_. I shall stay here."

With Hui at my side, we crouched down into a prone position and began inching our way toward the crest of the hill. The screeching sounds grew louder and louder the closer we were. After a few minutes of tiptoeing, we reached the hill's crest and poked our eyes over it. There, on the other side, was a sight that made me cringe.

Two large trees, one on each side of the road, twenty feet from our current position, held on its branches a _flock_ of Cliff Racers. Nearly _fifty_ of the vicious creatures sat perched in each of the trees, their screeching filled the air like a bad nightmare.

"By Vivec's mercy," I whispered to myself. "It is a veritable _army_ of the winged beasts."

"More then I have ever seen in one place," added Hui.

"So... What shall we do to rid us of this menace?" I asked. "Personally, I would like nothing more than to run into the center of those beasts, guns ablaze, and tear through them like wet paper."

Hui chuckled. "I would rather enjoy _watching_ that display of might," he said, "but I am afraid that there is simply too many for you to take on alone... What if I was to take one tree's worth of the Cliff Racers out of the picture, _then_ you may do your work. Would you allow it?"

"Perfect," I replied. "Then, on the count of three, we strike."

"One.

Two.

Three!"

Hui jumped to his feet, his arms held out in front of him, as if he was about to catch something. With deep breaths, a swirling ball of fire formed in between each hand, growing until it reached three times the size his heads alone. Then, with a sort of battle-cry, Hui hurled the flaming ball at the tree on the right of the path. Once it made contact, a huge explosion of heat and flames erupted, engulfing the _entire_ tree in an orange glow. The dying screams of the Cliff Racers were like fine music to my ears.

With the right grouping dead, I upholstered both of my sawed off guns and charged the Cliff Racers that remained. Firing all four shells into the grouping at a range of twenty feet, six Cliff Racers fell from the tree. The remaining creatures, frightened from the bangs, flew away, grouped together in the sky, then made a dive-bomb swoop at me. Ducking at the last possible moment, most of the beasts flew right over me.

Most.

One got lucky. With its talons exposed, the Cliff Racer ripped through the bare, exposed flesh of my back. I screamed in pain, the deep wounds burning under my skin. Trying to ignore the hurt as well as I could, I stood back up and reloaded my guns. The Cliff Racers arced in the sky and prepared for another swoop.

At the peak of their arc, I holstered the gun in my right hand and unsheathed my deadric sword. The birds turned back, diving from the sky at tremendous speed. As they pulled up mere feet from the ground, their talons flared, prepared to strike yet again, I fired both shells into the clustering. Three Cliff Racers fell to the ground with satisfying thuds. Bringing my sword at ready, I ducked down and the flock began to fly overhead. I swung my sword overhead at the birds, making contact with but one of the birds.

Once they finished their second swoop and were arcing high in the sky for their third, I counted the remaining Cliff Racers. There was still, at the least, ten of the winged devils left. I holstered one of my guns and unholstered the other, which was already conveniently reloaded. The beasts swooped down for their third strike and I aimed my gun, ready to fire.

Suddenly, before I was able to squeeze off a shot, a fireball came shooting overhead, streaking toward the remaining Cliff Racers. It struck the lead bird. Flames spread from the point of contact, engulfing all of the remaining beasts, killing them, and causing them to land at my feet in burned, charred piles.

I whipped around. "Hui, you bastard!" I jokingly exclaimed, "I could have handled it!"

Hui laughed. "Well if that is the thanks I get for helping you," he replied, "you are on your own from now on, Nerevar!"

o0o

A small medical center was set up to tend for my wounds: a small white tarp, held up by four wooden staves stuck in the ground. I laid flat upon my stomach upon a wooden framed medical cot while Hui tended to my wounds, healing them with his healing abilities.

"You continue to suprise me, Zaden," said Hui as he healed. "You have suffered some _deep_ lacerations along your back and you have suffered _a lot_ of blood loss. The average person would, by now, have blacked out from such loss of blood... but after all, you are, by no means, _average_. In fact, you seem perfectly _fine_. How do you _feel_, Zaden?"

"I feel fine," I replied. "How are the wounds healing, Hui?"

"Just fine... However, the wounds were quite deep, so some _light_ scars will remain."

Then, as I looked to Zela, I noticed something on her right shoulder. It was the lunar moth. "That moth is still with us?" I asked her.

Zela looked to her shoulder and stroked the moth's back. "Oh, yes," she said. "As you fought the Cliff Racers, it fluttered through the rain and landed on my shoulder. I dried its wings and was keeping it sheltered under my umbrella."

"It is truly strange," I said, "that it has accompanied us for as long as it has."

Just then, the moth flew off Zela's shoulder and landed next to me on the cot. "It seems to like you more, Zaden," said Zela.

As I stroked the moth's back, Hui finally finished healing my back, and as I sat up on the bed, the moth fluttered strait to my left shoulder.

o0o

Once restored to my full strength, the Pilgrimage went underway once again, walking the hilly path East.

Zela and I walked together beneath her pink umbrella, her left arm interlocked with my right arm, her head leaning against my right shoulder. The lunar moth was seated upon my left shoulder. The rain was _still_ unrelenting. We walked near the front of the group, where families _without_ livestock traveled (those with livestock all traveled near the back.) Children weeved and ran through the maze of people and carts, playing a game of tag. It was great to see my people so happy, so worry free.

For the longest time now, a query has been running through the back of my mind for the past week or so. A long while ago, Zela revealed to me that she was a member of The Thieves Guild, an organization with one common purpose: theft. However, in all the months I have lives and spent with her, _never_ have I seen her with other Thieves Guild members. I began to wonder if she was lying to me, that the whole story was made up.

There was only _one way_ to be sure.

"Zela," I said to her as we walked together, "might I ask you something?"

"Of course," she replied. "As away, Zaden."

"Do you remember when you confessed to me that you were of The Thieves Guild?"

"... Yes... What of it?"

"In all the time I have known you, I have _never_ witnessed you with any others from The Thieves Guild."

She paused, looking away for a brief second. "Well... as you can imagine, The Thieves Guild is not _highly_ regarded in the eyes of Empire Law."

"That is understandable."

"The reason you do not see me _associate_ with other thieves is because... we are very secretive about our work. Every week, we meet in undisclosed locations and discuss our jobs. At the end of said meetings, we are all given documents, containing our next quest. Namely, what the head thief wants stolen."

"What happens when you can not complete a mission?" I asked.

"If by a week's time you can not complete your task (and if you can make a convincing enough excuse), they will either give you a second chance or give you a new job. However, if you fail to carry out your orders three times, you are usually thrown out of the guild."

"What sort of items have you stolen in your work?" I asked.

"At first, items of little significance or value: gold, potions, documents, odds and ends of that nature. But when I rose within the ranks, the ability to steal more _significant_ items: the helms of Imperial Legion soldiers while _still_ within the castle walls, magical items from The Mages Guild itself.

The biggest job I ever accomplished was was about two years ago. I was charged with stealing the royal amulet of the Mayor of Pelagiad."

"Was it difficult?" I asked.

"In a way, yes," she replied. "When he did not wear it (which was almost never), he kept the amulet in a small chest on top of a dresser in his royal chambers. The chambers _itself_ were constantly guarded by two Imperial Legion soldiers. Disguised as a servant of the castle, I was able to pour a potion into their ales. When I served it to them, they were knocked out the very second the beverage touched their lips. After I stuffed their bodies in a broom closet, I snuck into the room without any further hindrances, picked the lock to the chest, snatch the amulet, and escaped through an open window."

I smiled. "You make it sound easy, Zela," I said.

She chuckled. "Thank you."

We shared a moment of silence, walking down the road with crowds of people about us. Then, a thought occurred, regarding Zela once again. I contemplated whether or not to ask her, afraid I would not enjoy the answer, but it _had_ to be asked.

"Zela?" I asked.

"Yes?" she replied.

"I... I need to ask you something, and please, be truthful."

"... Of course. What is it?"

"While you thieved... have you ever... _killed_?"

She paused.

Just what I did not want to happen.

"Zaden," she said, "you _must_ understand. I am not like other thieves. I avoid _all_ spilling of blood if possible... However..."

I feared the worst.

She paused again, looked away, starring at the ground below. "... I _have_ killed... once before." A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"... As of now, it was the _last_ job I undertook for The Thieves Guild. It was two years ago. A former Thieves Guild member in Pelagiad, began to spread rumors about our organization. She began to reveal the guild's whereabouts and secrets to the Imperial Legion, in an attempt to disband the guild forever. The guild learned that he held documents within her homestead that he would give to the legion. In retaliation, the Thieves Guild devised a plan to _steal_ said documents and, if the opportune moment arose, _silence_ her forever.

_I_ was given this task.

The theft began late, while Pelagiad slept. Her homestead was a simple cottage and entering undetected was easy enough. An unlocked hatch on the roof lead into a small closet within. Creaking the closet door open, I made a brief assessment of my surroundings. A female Dunmer, my target, slept on her bed. Against the wall opposite the bed was a small, iron safe. Aware that the deed was within, I snuck silently across the room to the safe, then fiddled at the lock with a lock pick. After a brief moment, the safe clicked open, and I had my deed. All that needed doing was to... silence the Dunmer.

Unsheathing my dagger, I crept to the side of her bed. There she slept peacefully, without a care. I raised my dagger high, preparing to thrust it into his neck. Suddenly, before the deed was done, something unexpected happened. The woman must have sensed my presence, and she began to speak to me.

'Mother?' she asked with closed eyes, 'Is that you?'

She was dreaming and she thought me her _mother_. Wishing not to wake her, I answered.

'Yes," I replied, 'it is I.'

'What are you doing here in Vivec?' She dreamt she was in Vivec.

'I- I came here to tell you something, my dear."

'What is it, mother?'

'I came to tell you that... I love you, dear, and I have always been proud of you, regardless of the fact that you are of the Thieves Guild.'

With eyes still closed, she smiled. 'Thank you,' she said. 'I can now die happy.'

I thought it strange she said that... but _appropriate_ still, for those were that last words she ever spoke.

With the deed done, I began to take my leave. But as I approached the closet door that lead to my departure, a noise sounded from behind. Fearing it was a member of the family, armed and ready to exact revenge on me, I clutched my dagger once more, spun around, and stuck the blade in the first chest I saw."

She paused for what seemed an eternity. "... It was a little girl," she said at last.

"A little girl!" I said in shock.

She lowered her head. "The daughter of the Dunmer female." Another tear rolled down Zela's face. "After that job, I met with the Mastermind, the head thief in Balmora. I told her I could no longer do such work anymore."

"So... you quit?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "Once one _joins_ the Thieves Guild, one can never '_resign_.' You are _forever_ in the Thieves Guild. What one can do is take 'hiatus' from guild activities. That is what _I_ did. Members have been known to do such, then they flee to the farthest corners of Tamriel, never to be heard from again... I have contemplated such a course of action, but in the end, I decided on remaining in Vvardenfell."

How have I been_ blind_ to this for so long?

"Zela," I said, "do you think you will _ever_ return to the guild?"

She paused. "Perhaps," she replied, "but not now."

All the time that Zela reiterated her past, _I_ took no notice of how the geography about us was changing. Now, with the tale at an end, my eyes were once again open to my surroundings.

Much had changed.

The rain had ceased, but the thick, dark gray clouds still lingered overhead. This land we entered was alien to me. Plant life was scarce. What was once long and open fields of grass, dotted by evergreen, oak, and mushroom trees, now turned to a charred and burned landscape. A thin layer of ash blanketed the ground, making the trail ahead harder and harder to spot. The trees that _still_ stood were blackened and resembled spent firewood. The clouds now had a reddish tint to them.

Hui, who had been studying a map intently, gave the signal to have the Pilgrimage come to a halt. As the word was passed down, I confronted Hui.

"What in Oblivion is going on?" I asked him. "For what reason have you given the order to stop?"

"A formidable landmark awaits us further down the path, one that could very lead to one's downfall." Hui then pointed ahead to a point in the far distance.

Ahead of us was a chasm a mile across, larger than I had ever seen, and across its entire length... was a bridge. Once we made the walk to the chasm's edge, I examined the bridge. The bridge itself was made completely of a strange, orange copper metal. The guard rails engraved with a strange, foreign writing that I could not read. The bridge was so long, I could not make out its other end clearly.

I turned to Hui. "What is this?" I asked.

Hui spread the map out on the ground and pointed to a place near the Southeastern most tip of the island. "This," he said, "is The Windy Pass. It is nearly a mile across, and this bridge spans the entire length."

"_Who_ could have constructed a bridge of such magnitude?" I asked him.

Hui paused. "The Dwemer," he finally answered. "This bridge was said to be constructed many centuries ago, over thirty-five hundred years ago."

"And yet it still stands strong," I commented.

"We and the Pilgrimage must cross this bridge with _haste_. This pass is called 'The Windy Pass' for a reason, Nerevar. This canyon is regularly ravaged by ash storms, brought down from the Ashlands"

"Ash storms!" I repeated, my teeth grinding together. "I thought this route led _away_ from such things!"

Hui rolled up the map and tucked it away. "This is the_ only_ part on your journey that suffers from ash storm and, if you take notice of the current conditions, ash storms are _absent_. If we make haste over the bridge now, we could make it over before a storm arises. And furthermore, the Grazelands are but a few day's journey from there."

I sighed. "Very well," I said. "I shall send word to the Pilgrimage." I turned around, facing the Pilgrimage. "Send these words to all parts of the Pilgrimage: Make haste over the bridge, for the ash storms could strike without warning!" The message spread quickly across the entire Pilgrimage and, given a few minutes, the message was heard by all.

With that, we took our first steps onto the bridge. Each one resonated loud throughout the metal, like loud claps of thunder. We began with a light jog, faster than the slow drudge the Pilgrimage adopted. The second the people stepped foot on the bridge, their pace quickened as well. Those manning carts or wagons drawn by animals instantly whipped their towing animals to speed. Although I did not wish it to occur, the crossing over the bridge quickly turned into a mad dash. I fear people would be injured.

After half the bridge's length, Hui, Zela, and I took a quick breather, leaning against the guard rail on our right. Looking toward the South, the blue of the ocean could be seen on the horizon. I felt a breeze blowing against my back the succeeded in cooling my body down. The breeze began to grow in strength... stronger... and stronger... and stronger.

I turned around and faced North. A huge red cloud loomed in the distance, growing larger and closer by the second. Suddenly, the lunar moth fluttered off my shoulder and flew toward the sky above until it was out of sight.

It _knew_ the danger that was to fall upon us.

The cloud hit us with great gust of wind, nearly knocking me off my feet. The cloud of red ash engulfed the bridge, making clear visibility _impossible_. I could not see no more then ten feet in front of me, but I could _hear_ the screams of the Pilgrimage about me. I searched around me... I had lost Zela and Hui in the confusion.

"Zela!" I yelled into the storm, "Where are you?!" Nothing. I called out again. Nothing. I called out a third time. Thankfully, that yielded a response. I could hear Zela's voice, it sounded not too far from me. I waved my arms out in front of me, searching the blinding storm for Zela. Zela called out again for me. I wiped around and she was right behind me.

I grabbed her by the arm and held her close. The wind was so loud, I had to scream at the top of my lungs to be heard. "Where is Hui?" I yelled. She did not respond. Believing that she could not hear me, I asked again, "Where is Hui?!"

"I do not know," she replied. "I lost him once the storm hit."

Shit. If we lost Hui...

"We have to get out of this storm!" I screamed.

Zela grabbed me by the chest and shook me. "And how are we to do that?! I can not tell what direction we are suppose to go!"

Just as soon as she said that, a energy shield of unimaginable proportions materialized over the opposite side of the bridge. Spanning the entire length of the mile long bridge and one hundred feet above our heads. It blocked out the winds completely. Scanning around, I searched for the person responsible for this monstrous shield.

It was an Argonian wearing a green robe.

It was Hui.

I ran over to him. In a solid stance, holding out his arms in front of him, as if pushing a heavy object, he used all his energy to maintain the shield.

"Hui," I said, "how are you-?"

"There is no time to talk," he said, his voice straining under the pressure. "Get everyone to the other end of the bridge!"

"What about you?" I asked.

He gave a grave look. "I will think of something as I go along... Now go!"

I whipped around, yelling out to the Pilgrimage. "Everyone to the other side!" I yelled. Those in earshot began to sprint immediately. I grabbed Zela by the hand and sprinted our way West, to the other end of the bridge. We finally made it to the other side in under three minutes. Steep hills to the North blocked the winds out for those already on the other side. Turning around, looking back toward the bridge, the bridge was clear, save one person... Hui. He remained on the bridge, maintaining the shield. I waved to him, signaling that everyone had made it across.

A second later, the shield disappeared, and the storm engulfed the bridge, with Hui along with it.

Zela began to ran back toward the bridge, in a insane attempt to rescue Hui from the storm. But I stopped her, grabbing her by the arm and holding her back.

"We have to save him!" pleaded Zela, tears rolled down her cheeks as she struggled to break free from my grasp.

"No," I regretfully said. "I am sorry, Zela... but you know as well as I that Hui is _dead_."

Zela still struggled to break free, but I would _not_ let her. She began to weep. She fell to her knees, tears trickling to the ground below. I embraced her, in an attempt to lift her spirits.

Nothing worked.

Nothing _would_.

As I held Zela in my arms, the lunar moth returned, landing back on to my right shoulder.

o0o

The Pilgrimage drudged North, toward the Grazelands, which were no more then a few days away. I looked to the faces of the people of the Pilgrimage: a thin layer of gray ash covered them from head to toe. Slowly staggering down the dirt roads, they resembled the undead: devoid of feeling, devoid of hope.

A few miles North, the Pilgrimage passed a large river. Everyone stopped along its bank, stripping themselves of their clothes, and washed themselves clean of the ash, dirt, and dust that blanketed them. Zela and I found a more secluded spot by the river's length and we washed there. We shook the dust off our clothes by beating them with wooden sticks, the ash fell into the water and floated down the river. Before I knew it, the sun had already began setting in the West. I decided to allow base camp to settle here, near the river bank. For a change, instead of setting our tent in a secluded spot, atop a hill and away from everyone else, I decided to set it up right in the center of the grouping.

o0o

Sleep came early that night. With everyone drained of energy from the event on the bridge, the camp fires were put out and nearly all were in bed by one hour after dusk. The night was quiet. Laying on my back in my cot, the lunar moth resting on my right shoulder, I attempted to rest... but it was an _impossibility_. Hui never left my mind. The way he sacrificed himself to make sure the entirety of the Pilgrimage made it across. He showed courage I had _never_ seen before (or I never believed he _possessed_.)

Zela was still quite distraught from Hui's death. She sat silently on the edge of her cot, staring at the ground beneath her. "I can not believe Hui is... gone," she said.

"I as well," I replied with a sigh. "But he sacrificed his life to _protect_ us, to protect _all_ of the Pilgrimage."

"If you are trying to comfort me," she said, "you are _not_ helping." Zela fell backwards, her head sunk into the soft, blue pillows of her cot. "I wish Hui was with us."

"I do to, Zela... but..." I tried to hold back tears. "He is dead."

Suddenly, the tent flap swung open. An ash covered figure stumbled in, leaning against a tent pole for support. It was Hui! His face was riddled with cuts and bruises, his robe was ripped and tattered, seemingly hanging on him by a mere thread. It looked as if he walked through Oblivion and back.

Looking at me square in the eye, Hui jokingly said, "I am not dead yet," then collapsed from exhaustion.


	19. The Grazelands

Chapter 19: The Graze Lands

After that day, the trail began its steady turn North, toward the Grazelands. Hui was utterly exhausted from being slammed by the brute force of the ash storm. In fact, his collapse of exhaustion was seen by Zela and I not as rest. Rather, it appeared as if he went into a _coma_ like state. Nothing we could do (splashing water upon his face, for example) could awaken him. So, during our travel, Hui was placed in the back of our mule driven cart, where he could rest in peace (provided the roads were somewhat smooth.)

One Month Later...

Eighty four days had passed. Thus was the length of our journey.

After all that has been done, the Pilgrimage was finally within reach of the Grazelands. At noon on the eighty fourth day, a single hilly boundary stood in our path. But before we traversed said boundary, I ordered the pilgrimage to take a break at the foot of the hill. I decided to see if Hui had finally awoken from his slumber.

Zela and I walked to the mule lead wagon, where all our supplies were kept. For the last month, Hui had rested atop a makeshift bed, comprised many blankets, one blanket kept over his face to prevent sunburn.

To my suprise, Hui was not sleeping. Hui was very much awake, sitting with legs crossed, quietly meditating, his pipe placed between his lips, his head bowed. He still wore his haggard wizard robe and hat.

"Hui!" I said with suprise. "You have finally awoken."

Hui lifted his head, looked upon our faces, and smiled. "Indeed I have," he replied. "It brings warm feelings into my heart to see your friendly faces again."

I smiled. "I am glad that you have finally awoken. Zela and I began to believe you would _never_ wake."

A questioned look came over Hui. "What is meant by that?" he asked. "For how long have I been in slumber?"

"For thirty one days," said Zela, "an entire month."

The pipe dropped from Hui's mouth. "A month!" he exclaimed. "How in Oblivion could this happen?! Did you not try to wake me?"

"We tried," said Zela, "on multiple occasions to wake you, but all to no avail."

"Well, what has happened in my absence, Zaden? Have there been any attacks upon the Pilgrimage?"

I shook my head. "Not a one," I replied. "Not even wild animals gave us any bother."

Hui gave a sigh of relief. "Well, I suppose _that_ is good news." Hui then looked down and gave notice to the rags he wore. "Damn, is _this_ what I have been wearing all this time? My robe looks as if held together by mere _threads_."

"That is why, Hui," I said, "I took the liberty of getting you a gift." I pointed to a cloth sack that sat at the back of the cart. "While you recovered, I searched the Pilgrimage for members of the Mages Guild and, through much search, I stumbled upon the head of the Balmora Mages Guild. I told her of your great act of heroism and your amazing display of magecraft (and how you were in need of new clothing.) Impressed by the retelling of your heroic feat, the Guildmaster gave onto me this robe and hat (identical to the ones you currently wear) free of charge.

Hui quickly grabbed the bag and opened it up. Just as the Guildmaster said, an identical pine green robe and wizard hat sat within. Hui took no pause before (literally) tearing off his decrepit robes and dawning the newer one. As he dresses, I inquired Hui "How could a wind storm ravage your clothing so?"

Hui had just placed the wide brimmed wizard hat atop his head, casting his face in a shadow. "Oh," he replied, "there was much more than wind within that storm.

When the blunt force of the winds struck me, I was nearly knocked clear off the bridge's guardrails. However, the winds were not completely unbearable, and I was able to regain my footing. As I drudged across the bridge's length, in the direction of the others, I heard the fast approaching sounds of Cliffracers to my left. Before I had time to prepare myself for an attack, I was swarmed by the winged devils in the blink of an eye. They clawed at me with their talons, ripped away at my robes and flesh.

I was quickly able to project a magic shield about me that the Cliffracers began to bounce off in their now fruitless attempts to kill me. But the damage was already done. I bled from every nick, cut and laceration I suffered as I drudged across the bridge.

Even now, as I reflect upon it, I can not believe I was able to last as long as I did, long enough to make it back to the Pilgrimage."

"Well, I am glad you did," I said to Hui. "Now, if you are adequately rested, I request your presence at the head of the Pilgrimage."

Hui slid forward and hung his legs over the side of the cart. "And why is that, Nerevar?" he asked.

"Because we are currently at the threshold of the Grazelands. All that stands in our way now is but one final land formation to traverse, and I would like you, Hui, to be at my side as we traverse it."

Hui stepped off the edge of the cart, grabbing his staff, and said to me "I would have it no other way."

Hui, Zela, and I began our walk back to the head of the Pilgrimage. Signaling to the Pilgrimage that they traverse the hill in five minutes, Hui, Zela and I began our climb, to scout ahead for any potential danger. The hill was very steep, making it difficult to continue upwards. Nearly every other step I took, my foot would slip in loose dirt, nearly causing me to fall on my face. After five minutes of scaling the land formation, we finally reached the crest, and the Grazelands awaited us.

A large savanna was stretched out in all directions, dotted with trees and large rock out croppings. Huge herds of creatures, such as the Alit (a strange scaled creature that resembled a disproportionately large walking mouth), the Kagouti (a cousin of the Alit, similar in appearance), and Nix-Hounds roamed the landscape, picking it clean of foliage (or stalking those who did.) Heading slowly down the hill into the Grazelands, I took immediate notice of the drastic climate change, how the temperature seemed to rise significantly. The Pilgrimage following closely behind. I looked to my right and saw a large watering hole, surrounded on all sides by a wall of trees.

I pointed to it. "There," I announced, "we shall set up camp there for the night."

Hui looked at me with confusion. "It is noon, Zaden," he said. "Why are we to set up camp now?"

"The Pilgrimage has traveled for close to three months now. I believe they have earned a full day's rest."

o0o

That night, we set up camp along the perimeter of the lake. The mood about the camp was a festive one. A huge celebration was held to praise our accomplishment: reaching the Grazelands. While nearly everyone was out and about, celebrating what they achieved, I did the exact opposite. I spent the night hours around a campfire at my individual site. With Hui and Zela by my side and my pipe in hand, I stared into the flames of our campfire, letting myself finally relax. The lunar moth say on my left shoulder.

"I can not believe our journey is nearly at an end," I said, releasing the smoke from my mouth. "Three months of travel has finally brought us to the Grazelands."

Zela moved in closer to me, wrapping her left arm around my right arm. "And by tomorrow," she said, "you will be at your ultimate destination: the Tree of Dawn."

I turned to Hui, who sat across the fire from Zela and I, smoking from his pipe. "Hui," I said, "Seeing as you are, could you answer me something?"

"Of course," he replied. "Ask your question, Zaden."

"When I reach the Tree of Dawn, how will I truly know that I am Nerevar? What proof will there be?"

He thought for a second, then finally responded, "Moon and Star."

"The mark?" I asked.

"No, the ring... Long ago, during the first Nerevar's lifetime, a ring was created, crafted by Dwemer Sorcerer-priest Kagrenac and blessed by Azura. The ring was fabled to give Nerevar supernatural powers of persuasion and would act as indisputable proof that the wearer was, in fact, Nerevar (or his reincarnation.)

"And how is that?" I asked.

"If Nerevar or his reincarnation were to wear Moon and Star, he would be unharmed. Anyone else... would be killed instantly."

I nearly fell off my seat. "Killed!" I screamed. "You mean to say that if I am not Nerevar, I could very well be killed!"

Hui make a solum nod. "I am afraid so, Zaden."

Zela noticed the worried look on my face and began to comfort me. She moved in even closer and rested her head on my shoulder. As I looked into her eyes, I noticed a very distinct twinkle in them, a twinkle I knew all too well.

I bent down slightly and began to talk into her ear. "Are you thinking what I think you are thinking?" I whispered.

Zela nodded. "Indeed I am, my love. Let us... retire to our beds."

Taking the hint, Zela and I got up from our seats, said our goodnights to Hui, and began walk back to our tent. Though we did not speak of it, we were both thinking the same thing: if Moon and Star kills me, this could very well be the last night we spend together. We were going to make the best of it.

However, before we got to our tent, we were interrupted. A large group of children, all of them no higher then my waist, running the entire gauntlet of the races, gathered about me. They looked up and gawked at me, amazed to be in the very presence of Nerevar.

While I wanted to head off to bed with Zela, the children had other plans. One of the children, a young Dunmer boy, called out "I want to hear a story!"

Son of a bitch!

Immediately, all the other children agreed and demanded to hear a story as well. This was the last thing I wanted to do this night, the (potential) last night with Zela. However, Zela reassured me. She whispered into my ear "Do not worry, my love. We can always do it later. Besides... I would like to hear a story as well."

Sitting back down on the log set next to the fire pit, the lunar moth still perched on my left shoulder, the children huddled about me at my feet, waiting for the story to be told.

"Very well," I said. " The story I am to tell is an old Dunmer fable, told and retold from the time of the Dwemer. The story is called ' The Faulty Army'.

Long ago, when the Dwemer civilization was alive and well, the ancient Dwemer king, Dumac, ruled over his empire with an iron fist. " My kingdom," he once proclaimed, "is so mighty, so powerful, and my centurion constructs so great, I could take this island of Vvardenfell for myself." So, he called upon his best engineers, his greatest mage crafters, and said onto them, "Build me a monumental army, fifty upon fifty soldiers, strong enough to seize all of Morrowind.

And so it was done. An army of mechanized centurions was built. Standing over twelve feet tall each, they towered over all others. In their right hand, they wielded thrice barreled weapons. One fired lead bullets in rapid succession, the second launched exploding bombs, and the third unleashed a hellish stream of fire, engulfing all that were unfortunate enough to be caught in its spray. In their left hand, they wielded spinning saw blades, able to cut through the thickest armor plating and the mightiest of warriors.

When his army was complete, the Dwemer King sent scrolls to the four most powerful figureheads: the leader of The Fighters Guild, Mages Guild, The Imperial Legion, and The Blades. All the scrolls read the same. "I proclaim from this day forward that I shall be the new ruler of Vvardenfell. With my mechanized might, none pose a danger to me. If, however, your delusions compel you to rebel against my might, send your finest warriors to the fields of the Grazelands."

And so, on the ides of Autumn, the armies met on the wide open fields of The Grazelands. On one side, the towering forces of the Dwemer. On the other, the armies who oppose them. The Imperial Legion sent their finest archers, The Fighters Guild sent their mightiest swordsman, and The Mages Guild sent their most powerful spell casters.

The Blades, however, sent no one to the battlefield that day."

An Orc girl raised her hand. "Why did The Blades not send soldiers?" she asked.

"Well," I responded, "The Blades knew that anyone that was sent onto the battlefield that day would surly be killed, making no wounds against the Dwemer army."

"So they sent no one against the Dwemer?"

"Not quite... While The Blades knew that sending soldiers to The Grazelands would have been a fatal mistake... they did send someone."

"Who?" asked a Khajiit boy.

I leaned in closer. "Nerevar," I replied

The children gasped. "They sent you," asked the girl again.

I laughed. "No, I am not that old. I speak of the Nerevar before me, Indoril Nerevar."

All the children let a collective "Ooh". Then, an Imperial boy raised his hand. "So," he said, "what happened next?"

"As the battle commenced and the forced that opposed the Dwemer's mechanic army set forth, the grim reality of their situation quickly set in. All who opposed the Dwemer stood not a chance. Their arrows could not pierce through their tough, metal exterior, swords broke off their armor platting, and spells could not even scuff. With highly advanced weaponry, the mechanic armies tore through the armies of good, without faltering, without feeling, and without mercy. When the day was done, not one robotic warrior fell and not one archer, swordsman, or mage was left standing."

The Khajiit boy raised his hand again. "What of Nerevar?" he asked.

"That night, after the battle was won, the Dwemer King celebrated his glorious victory with a great banquet, inviting all the social hierarchies of Dwemer society to join him. There, the king, gloriously inebriated, proclaiming 'Today was just the forerunner of a glorious history for the Dwemer. Tomorrow, we continue our march across the island of Vvardenfell. Then, we shall send our armies to the mainland, and by winter's end, all of Nirn shall be ours!' While he would have very well succeeded in his plans, he did not count on one thing... Nerevar.

What only The Blades and Nerevar knew was that the Dwemer army was controlled by only one person: The Dwemer King himself, and he did it all with a single, gold ring. Worn upon his finger, or by anyone of his bloodline, that individual would command the centurions. Worn by anyone else, and the armies would deactivate, laying dormant until the ring was slipped back onto royal fingers.

So, during the banquet, Nerevar snuck his way into the King's chambers, and when Chimer returned to them later that night, he was met with the sharp end of Nerevar's sword.

With Dumac dead, the centurion army stood dormant beneath Nirn's crust, never to kill again. Nerevar disposed the ring out in the Sea of Ghosts, the oceans northwest of Vvardenfell. There, he let the ring sink into the deepest, darkest undersea trench, where no one would ever find it."

The children cheered, clapping their hands, smiles reaching across their faces. Once they stopped applauding, I told them to head off to bed, as it was nearly one hour to midnight. With the children gone, Zela and I rushed to our tent. Zela and I made passionate love that night, while Hui slept (willingly) with some friends in their tent.

o0o

The next morning, I awoke feeling not only refreshed, but gleeful. I turned over to greet Zela a good morning, to tell her that I lover her... but she was not in bed. I slowly sat up to ee if she was walking about the tent... she was not there either, or for that matter, Hui. Just then, I became aware of the sounds around my tent. There were cries, weeping, and shrieks of terror. Then, looking toward clothing and weapons, I noticed the lunar moth sitting atop the counterweight of my sword. Its wings were stained with blood, but not its own blood. It was human blood. Fearing the worst, I quickly slipped my clothing on, equip my weapons, and ran outside, the moth perched on my left shoulder.

Stepping outside, I observed many people about. They huddled together in groups, all of them had rivers of tears flowing down their cheeks. Then, to my right, I saw Zela sitting upon a wooden bench. She was crying as well. Hui sat to her left, and was trying to comfort her.

Walking toward the two, I asked, "What goes on here?"

Zela, relieved to have me here with her, jumped from the bench and ran to me, burring her head into my right shoulder.

Wrapping my right arm around Zela, I looked toward Hui. "Hui, what in Oblivion goes on here?! Why are all these people weeping so?"

He paused, almost hesitant to answer. After a few seconds, he finally answered. "A... travesty has... befallen our... humble pilgrimage," Hui said.

"No... What has happened?"

He looked away. "Well..."

Before he could finish, an Argonian bishop, dressed in common bishop attire (with the inclusion of a tail hole cut near the back) approached to my left, carrying a large book of sermons.

He shook my hand. "Father Shirkja," he greeted. "It is an honor to be in your presence, Nerevar."

"What has happened to my people, father?" I asked.

He paused as well. "You... may wish to witness the devastation for yourself."

Father Shirkja lead Hui, Zela, and I to a tent on the opposite side of the camp. It was a large tent, with a sign above the door flaps that read "Nursery."

"Enter," said Shirkja. "Whiteness a mere fraction of what has fallen us. Be warned, Nerevar... it may be too much for one to look upon."

With that I walk into the nursery. Inside, a most gruesome of sights presented itself. Within, the canvas walls were blanketed in a thick coating of blood. Inside was over thirty baby cradles, all of them with babies, all with cut throats.

I rushed back outside. My heart was pounding, the sight within the tent caused me to quickly feel ill. "Vivec's mercy," I said, turning to the father. "What could have done such a malicious act?"

"I do not know," he responded. "It happened some time in the middle of the night, while everyone slept. As I said, this is but a fraction of what has befallen us."

"There are more?" I asked with disbelief.

"Attacks struck over four other nurseries, all of them left no survivors."

I could not believe my eyes and ears. I thought I was done with such things: all these deaths, all these killings, the torment of my people. I thought The Grazelands would bring an end to all of this madness.

I suppose I was wrong.

The pain of such a loss was too much on me, so I left the base camp to attempt to regain inner peace. Resting on top of a small hill, I laid flat on my back, the dry, brown grass crinkling beneath me. I looked toward the heavens above me, the thin wispy clouds streaking by, out of my reach, out of my control. The lunar moth still rested on my left shoulder.

As I rested, I heard approaching footsteps. It was Hui.

"Are you going to kill yourself now?" he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"No," I responded, with no sarcasm to be heard, "I have grown past that."

"Well that is good to hear." He paused. "Zaden... I can not imagine the pain that you are probably feeling right now."

I remained silent.

"And I know you are probably dreading the funeral ceremony that is to take place tonight."

"Yes..."

"Well, in regards to the, I suppose... there is good news."

I sat up and turned around to face Hui. "And what possible good news could come of this?!" I asked.

"There is no funeral ceremony tonight," he replied.

I spring to my feet. "None at all?"

"Because of the... nature of their deaths, the parents of the departed have, almost unanimously, voted to keep the ceremony private."

"What will they do then?"

"I am not sure. My guess is that it will be a private burial: only members of the families shall attend."

I let out a deep sigh of relief. "Very Well... Besides, I would not have attended either way."

"Why is that?" asked Hui.

"I am leaving, Hui. I set out for the Tree of Dawn. I leave now."

"Now?! W-What of the pilgrimage? What about Zela?"

I unholstered the shotgun on my left, unclipped the holster itself, and took off two ammo pouches. Placing them into Hui's reptilian hands, I said onto him "With these gifts, I place upon you the safety of the pilgrimage. Keep them safe. Keep Zela safe, for you ar their protector."

Hui was awestruck. To my suprise, he pushed the weapons away. "No," he replied, "I could not possibly-."

I pushed back. "You can and you will, wizard. I am not asking you... I am commanding you."

At first, Hui was (reasonably) hesitant of his new authority. However, after a few seconds, he took to his responsibility, clipping the holster to his left and attached the ammo pouches to his right. "Thank you... Nerevar."

I smiled, placing my hand on his shoulder. "Take care," I said. With that, I turned, and began to walk North, to the Tree of Dawn. However, before I took more then three steps, Hui called out to me again.

"Wait," he yelled. "What do I tell Zela?"

"... Tell her... I love her... and if, for any reason, I do not make it back... well, she will have something to remember me by."

o0o

The Grazelands was a stark contrast to the lands we traveled to reach here. The air was hot, but a lack of humidity made it more bearable. It was now around the hour of noon and the sun beat down on me like rain. The white clothing I wore absorbed very little of the sun's rays, so keeping cool was not too much of a task. The dry grass crunched beneath my feet with every step I took.

I continued North for five hours, trying to cover as much ground as I could. I felt close to my destination, like if nothing stood in my path, I could make my destination by nightfall.

However, knowing my luck, that did not happen.

A huge storm swept in from the East, bringing a torrential downpour with it. The sky darkened, making visibility limited to a distance of only about fifty yards. The only light I was given was from the quick and rapid flashes of lightening above.

After drudging through the rain for about another hour, shielding the moth under my robe, I could not stand it any longer. I was drenched to the bone and I was in desperate need of shelter for the night. Looking about me, aided by the flashes of lightening, I spied before me a small cave, seemingly uninhabited. Entering the cave, I stripped myself off my weapons and leaned them against the rock wall of the cave. I disrobed out of my wet clothing and draped them on a bolder to dry. Fixing a makeshift bed out of... rocks, I finally got the chance to rest my feet. Somehow, through the constant noise of the pounding rain and booming thunder, I was able to force myself to sleep.

o0o

The next morning, I slowly cracking my eyes open as I woke up. The sun was rising in the East, coating the savanna in an orange hue. Looking toward the foot of my "bed", my eyes slowly opening, I realized... I was not alone in this cave. Apparently, during the course of the night, the cave's original inhabitants returned. I recognized them from the various bestiary books I read in the Fighters Guild. Two Nix Hounds (green, scaled skinned, wolf like creatures, with small, orange eyes and tentacles that hung from their mouths) slept against the opposite wall of the cave, curled up in balls.

Not wanting to fight this early in the morn, I slowly got up, being as quiet as possible, as not to wake the beasts. I snuck over to where my clothing was draped to find they were nice and dry. After silently slipping on my robe, I crept over to my weapons, quietly tightening the gun belt to my waist. Everything was going fine so far. All I need to do now was get my sword and creep out of here undetected.

Picking up the sword, the sheath was still wet, and it slipped from my finger tips, falling to the ground, landing with the loudest "CLANG!" against the rocks.

Shit.

The sleeping Nix Hounds jumped to their feet, their heads wildly scanning from left to right, searching for the source of the noise. Finally, their eyes met mine, and instantly, they turned violent. The two hounds reeled back and started to bark at me (which sounded more like grunting hisses.) They inched closer and closer, forcing me back into a corner of the cave. I had nowhere to escape.

Remembering I had the gun holstered to my waist, I whipped it out, aiming at the Nix Hound to my right, the closest one. They were not intimidated in the slightest, and moved in closer and closer. I tried something different, something that, at the time, I never believed would work.

"STOP!" I yelled, trying to sound as loud and intimidating as possible. Then, defying all logic, the hounds stopped in their tracks.

"One more step," I said, "and I will kill you." I never expected them to understand me. So, I was quite suprised to see that, after my threat, the two Nix Hounds laid flat on their stomachs, in a submission pose, and began to whimper. Taking the opportunity, I picked my sword back up, strapped it to my back, and stepped outside, giving the hounds a parting "Good boys."

The air outside was sweet with the smell of rain water, the grass shimmered with dew, and a cool sea breeze blew in from the East. I looked around, trying to get my bearings, only to find that I had no idea where I was. Luckily, coming over a hill to my left, a Dunmer, herding a small flock of sheep, passed by me. I quickly approached.

"You there, Dunmer," I said, "I am in need of some directions."

The herdsman gave one look at my attire and began to chuckle. "What be the matter, nobleman? Get a little to sauced at a social gathering and wander off? well, you are a long ways away from any royal residences, sir."

"I am no noble," I said. "I am Nerevar Incarnate."

He gave me a blank look, as if looking at an abstract painting. Suddenly, he burst into uncontrollable laughter, with seemingly no end in sight. "By Vivec's mercy, you must truly be inebriated!"

"I am not inebriated! I am Nerevar Incarnate!

The laughter continued for a few more seconds, but quickly died out. "Ok, very well, Nerevar," he said, still not convinced in the slightest that I was who I said I was, "I shall give you the directions you seek. What be your destination?"

"The Tree of Dawn," I replied.

The laughter returned once more.

"Damn it, Dunmer, will you give me what I seek or not?"

"Sure, I will... but you must first answer me three riddles."

"What the fu-. Is this some damn children's book?!"  
"Of course," he said, "I could just leave you out here, without direction, destined to become lost and-."

"Very well, Dunmer," I replied. "I will answer your riddles, but be quick about it, for I am in haste."

"First riddle: What travels by flight and carries the Blight?"

That riddle was very simple. It took but a moment to get my answer. "A Cliffracer!"

"Very good. Second riddle: A man says, "If you lie to me I will slay you with my sword. If you tell me the truth, I will slay you with a spell." What must you say to stay alive?

Oh, and just so you know, you have three guesses for each riddle."

This one was rather difficult. For what felt like an eternity, I repeated the riddle over and over in my head, searching for an answer. Finally, it came it me. "You will slay me with your sword!"

"Damn, I was hopping you would not get that one. Very well, one final riddle, and this one will give you the location of what you seek.

What is the one shadow

you can not ever see?"

Hmmm... "The shadow of death?" I answered.

"Good guess," he replied, "but I am afraid not."

"The shadow of evil?"

"Not quite. For some, evil can be as clear as day. Now, this is your last guess," he said, "so choose wisely."

Damn it. For what seemed an even longer eternity, I repeated the riddle to myself. I now had but one guess left, and if I failed, I might have lost the only direction to the Tree of Dawn. I tried and tried and tried to contemplate an answer to the Dunmer's riddle... but to no avail. In the end, I blurted an answer.

"The shadows of the moons? I do not know, Dunmer. This riddle is simply too hard to crack!"

"Wrong! You have failed to solve my riddles and, therefore, are not deserving of my directions... I can, however, give you the answer to the riddle, if you wish it."

I scoffed at the offer. "What little aid that will bring me... but very well, speak the answer."

"It is the human shadow, noble, the shadow that always lingers right behind you." Of course! It seems so simple now! "So..." he continued, "you would do well to take the hint."

"Is this another riddle?" I asked him, dreading the answer.

"Look behind you, you s'wit!"

Ignoring his crude comment, I turned around... What the fuck!

No more than three hundred yards away was The Tree of Dawn. It was a colossal tree, the base of the trunk over two hundred feet across, the upper most branches reaching over eight hundred feet high. "Well son of a bitch," I said to myself. "I slept all night in that cold wet cave when the tree was only a few more minutes away."

At the base of the tree was a small opening, large enough for only one person to squeeze through, leading into the core of the tree. Looking through, I could see only pitch black.

Suddenly, a voice sounded behind me. "Nerevar!" it yelled

I whipped around. A tall man stood before me, wearing a robe so black that light did not reflect off its surface (but was, rather, absorbed into it), a straw hat that blocked his eyes from view (a hat similar to the ones worn by rice-patty workers), and a long barreled, double barreled shotgun on his back.

"Who are you?" I asked, resting my hand on the stock of my shotgun, ready to use it at a moment's notice.

His head was bowed, his wide brimmed hat blocking his face from my view. "I am a messenger. A messenger of Dagoth Ur. A messenger... of your DEATH!"

Before I had a chance to bring my gun to ready, the assassin already had his shotgun aimed from his waist. He fires both shells into me, a hailstorm of metal ripped through my body. The pain was so intense, it felt as if fire was burning me from the inside. I could barely breath. I fell backwards, my head leaned against the trunk of The Tree of Dawn.

The moth never left my shoulder.

The assassin laughed, slowly reloading his gun. "Hurts, does it not?" he taunted. "Fifty four pellets of buckshot will do that to a mortal's body. In fact, for most, they would be dead right now. I am suprised you are still alive. It does not matter though... you will be dead soon."

Before he got the chance to fire another volley, I unholstered my gun and fired both shells into his head. The metal ripped through his straw hat, leaving it riddled with tiny holes. The assassin, however, remained unscared.

The man sighed. "Damn it," he said, sounding calm and relaxed. "That was my favorite hat... and you ruined it, Nerevar."

"What in Oblivion?" I said, my voice straining from the pain. "I just shot you in your skull! The ground should be painted with your brain matter! How are you not dead?!"

"The same could be said for you, Nerevar... Tell me, there did not happen to be... iron buckshot in those shells?"

"Lead, actually."

"That figures... You see, Nerevar, unless you have either silver, ebony, or (if it were possible) deadric buckshot, you will find that those guns are... quite useless against me."

"And why is that?" I asked.

The assassin took off his hat, revealing himself to be Dunmer... well, that is what I thought, until I saw his eyes. They glowed a bright, inhuman purple.

"Because," he said, "I am not mortal."

I gasped, startled by his impossible eyes. "Who are you?" I asked. "What are you?!"

He laughed evilly. "I am not Dunmer, if that is what you ask. No... I gave up on that race a long time ago. It was too weak. I am daedric, created from one of the deadric lords himself. Molag Bal, to be precise, and I am his top assassin."

"Than why do you send the message of death from Dagoth Ur?"

"Oh, he and Molag Bal are good friends, and they made a nice little wager for my services. Kill Nerevar, and I receive a nice position at the right hand of Dagoth Ur when he takes over this pathetic Tamriel."

Suddenly, a indescribable, intense wave of pain surged over my body, spreading from the pellet wounds in my stomach to every inch of my body. It felt as if I was being ripped open from the insides by Cliffracers. I screamed from the pain, my body quickly becoming weak.

The assassin laughed maniacally, his voice deep and brooding. "Do you feel the pain, Nerevar? It is my special weapon: poisoned shells. You will be dead within the next five minutes." He leaned in closer, putting his face inches away from mine. "Do you have any last words, Nerevar?"

"Shut up," I replied.

Reaching under my robe, pulling out my hidden silver dagger with lightening speed and i attempted to thrust the blade of the dagger into his forehead... but to no avail. With his own lightening quick reflexes, the assassin grabbed my by the wrist, effectively halting my attack.

"Now now now," he said in a taunting manner, "let us have none of that, shall we?" He then tightened his grip on my wrist and, with the strength of only his fingers, he broke my wrist causing the dagger to fall to the ground. He then picked up the dagger and hovered the point of the metal above my heart. "And now, Nerevar, your journey comes to an END!"

Suddenly, the moth fluttered off my shoulder. Then, much to the utter suprise of both the assassin and I, the moth summoned an orb of magic energy and launched it at the assassin. It struck him in the chest, throwing him back twenty feet. The moth positioned itself between the assassin and I, then began to... transform.

The moth turned into a white silhouette of itself. Then, the figure grew and shaped into the silhouette of a slim, beautiful woman. The woman's arms then morphed into wings like a bat, her feet elongated and grew long, sharp talons, and she sprouted a long tail with a scorpion like stinger at its tip. When the silhouette lifted, her skin was a lovely shade of "Dunmer" blue and had lavender wings.

It was a Winged Twilight, the messengers of Azura.

The Winged Twilight spoke with a voice as beautiful and alien as Azura. "You shall not bring further harm to my lord's servant," she said. Then, with a powerful flap of her wings, she sent a stunning wall of blue flames hurdling at the assassin. The flames engulfed him, but with the wave of his arm, the fire was blown away, like a candle in the breeze.

The Winged Twilight looked back to me, revealing her blood red eyes and lips. "Enter the tree, Nerevar! Make haste."

In too much pain to get onto my feet, I dragged my stomach across the ground and into the Tree of Dawn. The very instant my entire body was within the trunk, the opening was shut behind me, plunging me into pitch darkness.

o0o

"I can not see a damn thing," I said to myself within the pitch black of the Tree of Dawn. "What I would do for a little light." As soon as I said "Light", the roof above began to glow. A multitude of glowing worms hung overhead, their faint blue light enough to illuminate the cavern within the tree. Everything about me was wood: the floor, the walls, the ceiling. I was encased in a bubble in the center of the tree.

The searing pain came surging back once again, coming in waves all across my body. "I can not take much more of this," I thought to myself. "I have no way of healing myself here. What am I to do?"

Just then, an opening in the wooden wall before me opened up, with more glow worms illuminating the path. An inner voice told me to "Follow the path." Listening to my inner voice, I dragged myself through the opening, following the path downward, deeper into the tree.

The path lead to another bubble, though this one was much larger. As I dragged myself into the cavern, I heard the sweet sound of trickling water to my left. Rain water had dripped down the cavern walls and collected into a small pool. The inner voice spoke again, imploring me to "drink from the pool." So I dragged myself over and began to drink the water.

From the first sip of the water, the pain from the poison vanished. Taking a second drink, the buckshot from within my body was pushed through the holes in my stomach and they healed over after, leaving many small scars. A third and final drink healed my scars and renewed my energy, causing me to feel as if I awoken from a long and restful sleep.

Finally, I was able to stand on my own free will. Looking about me, I noticed that in the center of the cavern there was a shallow dip in the wood, where the rigs of the tree began. It was the exact center of the tree. "If I am to meditate within the tree," I said to myself, "this is a good a place as any." I stepped into the dip, sitting down in the exact center, my legs crossed, and my arms resting on my legs.

I began to meditate, breathing deep, in and out, in and out, in and out. My muscles began to relax, my mind slowed to a lax state. The cavern was quiet, the only noise coming from the gentle swaying of the leaves above me and the soft trickle of the water. I instantly lost track of time, with no windows and no outside light to aid me.

With my entire body relaxed, my mind began to wander. I pondered many things.

Breath in.

Breath out.

The journey has been tough. Many foes stood in my path, all of them to be defeated. A great following in my wake. People of all walks. Coming together under a single belief. Their faith unmatched. Many travesties set upon them, and yet they still persevered. Following a long lost hero, returning to bring them salvation. A bringer of faith. A man of untold power. A God among men.

Breath in.

Nerevar.

Breath out.

Am I deserving of this? The path of death I brought. The people I have failed. The souls who will never return, never to return to their families again, never to hold their children in their arms, never to embrace their loved ones. I have failed them. Therefore, I failed myself.

Breath in.

No.

Breath out.

I have not failed. To fail is to die. I still have air in my lungs, blood in my veins, strength in my arms, and thought in my head. I shall not fail. Nerevar died before me. Where he failed is where I shall succeed. The lives lost before my time, the lives spend following me through my Pilgrimage through hell and back. They shall be avenged. I shall not fail.

Breath in.

Who am I?

Breath out.

I am Zaden. Born of Cyrodiil. Raised in the frigid Jerall mountains. Born of uncertain parents. Born on the fifth day of Summer. Sent under another's whim to Morrowind. The reincarnation of Nerevar. Destined to fight Dagoth Ur beneath Red Mountain. Destined to kill Dagoth Ur. Destined to bring peace to Morrowind.

Breath in.

I am Nerevar.

Breath out.

A section of the high ceiling of the cavern split open. A beam of the sun's white light came streaking through, blinding me. Through the diminutive opening, a small sparrow fell through and landed onto my lap. Its left wing was bleeding and broke, rendering him unable to fly. It chirped a soft cry. I gently picked the bird up, cupping it softly in my hands.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared from the center of my clasped hands. A low, quiet whistle rang from the robin. Unclasping my hands, the robin reappeared, its wing cleaned of blood and completely healed. The robin gave one last, cheerful chirp, then jumped out of my hands, flew out side, and the opening closed behind it.

Just then, the opening reopened, wider than before. From above, the Winged Twilight slowly hovered down to the floor, standing before me. Suddenly, it turned to the white silhouette once again, then underwent another transformation. She shed her tail, her taloned feet returned to normal, and her wings turned to arms. Then, her ears turned pointed (like elf ears) and her skin a light blue. When the silhouette faded, the spectral vision of Azura stood before me.

"It was you," I said in shock. "You were with me, throughout the entire Pilgrimage... to protect me."

"I have been watchful," she said, her all-too-familiar voice. "I have watched you throughout your journey, Zaden the White. You have defeated a great many foes, you have protected your people, and you have spread The Tribunal faith. Now... complete the Nerevarine prophecy."

She brought her cupped hands together in front of me. In her hands was a pale blue ring with a small crescent moon and a seven pointed star between the moon's points.

"Take this ring," she said, "and prove your identity as Nerevar Incarnate."

I took the ring from her hands. I knew if I put this ring on, and I was not the reincarnation... I would be killed instantly. I took that chance. Taking one last deep breath in, I slipped the ring on my finger.

...

I was still alive.

Azura opened her arms before me. "So it is done," she said. "Your transformation into Nerevar is complete. Your inner mage abilities have now been unlocked. The power of Morrowind's greatest mages now belongs to you, but it is your duty to unlock your powers, to find a master.

The first part of your journey is complete. Now begins the second.

You can not face Dagoth Ur alone, and not as you are. Just as it was before, you must built an army of formidable power to bring through The Ghostgate."

"How am I to do this, Goddess?" I asked.

"You must go before the the masters of all the great guilds and forces of Vvardenfell: The Blades, The Imperial Legion, The Fighters Guild, and The Mages Guild. They will judge you. You must make yourself worthy of their aid. Once your army is complete, your march to Red Mountain may begin."

I bowed my head. "Thank you... for everything."

"Before you go," she said, "I have a gift for you. Outside, a undying steed of unwavering strength, speed, and endurance awaits you.

Before I take my leave of you, I have an individual who I would take priority in meeting. Beneath the wizard's tower of Tel Fyr, within the Corprusarium, is a sickened relic that can supply you with artifacts that will aid you in battle.

Farewell, Nerevar." An instant later, she vanished, and I walked outside.

o0o

It was now high noon, the humid hot hitting me like a sledgehammer. My skin seemed to be much paler, even though I was within the tree for but a few hours. Just where I left him, the would-be assassin laid dead on the ground, the dagger still in his head. Taking back the dagger, I took notice of the body. While only left there for a few hours, the corpse was almost picked clean from maggots and animals, leaving only a shotgun strapped to a skeleton.

I walked to the top of a hill, looking in all directions for my gift. No sign of the horse. "Perhaps if I whistle," I said to myself. Putting my lips together, I whistled a short, low note. A few seconds later, over the crest of a hill about a hundred yards before me, a gleaming white stallion came galloping over to me on deadric metal horse shoes, its white mane flowing in the breeze. It came strait to me, coming to a winding halt.

"By Azura's graces (literally)," I said to myself. I ran my fingers through its hair and looked into the horse's blood red eyes. "Beautiful." Circling it, I noticed a Moon and Star symbol branded into its left calf.

I put my feet through the stirrups of the saddle and mounted the horse. "All right, my new equestrian friend, let us head back to the Pilgrimage." All the years riding horses back in Cyrodiil have not gone to waste. Turning around to the South, I whipped the reins against the horse's back, causing the horse to rear up on its hind legs, then galloped at full speed toward the camp. This horse was fast, faster then any horse I had ever ridden before. The day's journey I walked to the Tree of Dawn, which took over a day to complete, I cover atop of the horse in one and a half hours.

o0o

Striding through the Pilgrimage camp atop the white stallion, the faithful crowded about, cheering and chanting for my return. Stopping in front of my tent, stepping off the horse, Zela and Hui appeared from inside. Her face instantly brightened and she came running over into my arms.

"Oh, Zaden," she exclaimed, "I am so glad to see you! I thought you would never return!"

I began to laugh. "What do you mean? I have only been gone for but a day."

Zela took a step back, she had a confused look upon her face. She look to Hui, who was just as confused as she. Hui took a step toward me. "Zaden," he said, "you have been gone for almost two weeks."

I could not believe what I heard. "Two weeks! I- But I- It felt like only a few hours within the Tree of Dawn. It only took me a day to arrive there!"

"So you were in the tree for thirteen days! How do you feel?"

Suddenly, a stomach splitting surge of hunger rushed over my body, enough to cause me to bend over. "Oh damn," I said. "Someone please get me some food!"


	20. Tel Fyr

Chapter 20: Tel Fyr

I sat atop of a small wooden chair, eating three times my normal fill of smoked meats, cheeses, fruits, bread, and ale. I wanted to have all this with whiskey, but I was not allowed until I was completely full (as deemed by Zela.) I did not like that rule, but she knew best.

I ordered earlier that day for a horse inspector to examine my new steed, and by three hours after mid day, an Imperial arrived and inspected him from head to hoof.

"Well," he said after he completed his work, "there is not much bad I _can_ say about your horse, Nerevar. Your stallion is in _perfect_ health, the healthiest I have ever seen in _years_. Although... I have never seen _red_ eyes on a white horse... Where did you get this horse again?"

I smiled. "Azura," I replied.

He sighed. "Figures... Well, he is, for lack of better word, perfect. Not much else I can say, except... what is his name?"

"His name?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. "He_ must_ have a name."

I paused. "I do not know. I have not given him a name, as of yet."

As the horse inspector left, Hui stopped him and began to talk to him. He was out of earshot, but I remember he had been saying all day the he wanted a horse of his own. Knowing him, I bet that is what he was talking about.

Zela pulled up a chair next to me and took a seat, two small glasses of whiskey in her hands. Giving one to me, she asked if I had thought the horse a name yet. I thought for a moment, and after a few minutes, I responded "Apoc," the name of the horse I owned in Cyrodiil.

Hui returned from his conversation with the inspector with a smile on his face. "Good news," he said, "I have_ just_ purchased a black stallion."

"Excellent," I replied. "What are you going to name it?"

"Kalak, after one of my younger brothers."

I got up from my chair and walked over to Apoc. Turning back to Hui, I asked him, "When can you _get_ the horse?"

"Anytime," he replied, "It is officially in my name, so I could get it now, if I wanted to."

I called over Zela and we both mounted Apoc, Zela holding me by the waist from behind. "It that case, let us get it now," I said.

With Hui walking beside me, I rode the horse along the outskirts of the camp. We trotted to the other side of the lake, where a makeshift horse stable was set up. Once we arrived, Hui entered the stable and spoke to the owner. After about ten minutes of talk, Hui strode out of the stable atop of a beautiful, black stallion.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Very nice," I replied. "Hui, Zela... While within the Tree of Dawn, I was, once again, visited by Azura. She said to me a number of thing I did not fully understand, so I hope that _you_ might be able to aid me in some answers.

Hui hopped of his horse. "Of course, Nerevar," he said. "Tell us anything."

"Of the things Azura told me, one was "Your inner mage abilities have now been unlocked." Hui, what do you think this means?"

Hui thought for a brief moment. "Well...

As you know, Nerevar, those who are not _born_ mages have _no_ chance of ever becoming mages later in their lives. However... in my studies of Mage Guild text, I stumbled upon accounts of individuals who, under strange or unexplainable circumstances, _unlocked_ the ability to use mana, to become mages.

If this is what Azura implies, perhaps She has told you that you are now, in fact, a mage!"

"But... If that is so," I said, "does that mean that I can now do as you do? Wielding fire, projecting magic shields, summoning beasts to aid in battle?"

Hui shook his head. "Not necessarily, Nerevar. To wield such power, one must first _unlock_ them, under certain circumstances, and under the guidance of a master."

"Such as you?" I asked.

Hui paused. "... I suppose so... Yes, such as _I_."

"Well, since that be the case... would you be willing to be my master in the magic arts, Hui?"

Hui was so touched, so awestruck by my offer, he began to, for lack of better word, "flip out," and talk to himself. "Me," he said, "train Nerevar? _The_ Nerevar? This an unheard of honor. I will be forever renown: 'the wizard that taught Nerevar Incarnate.' The recognition I shall receive will be great. I will-"

"So... is that a yes?" I interrupted.

Snapping himself from his rant, Hui knelt before me onto one knee. "I would be honored to be your master, Nerevar," Hui said.

"Excellent... so when can we start?" I asked him.

Hui rose to his feet. "It is not that simple, Nerevar. As I said, it takes _specific_ conditions for the molding process to take place. When the time is right, I shall tell you."

"Very well," I replied. "Now, the next thing Azura said that confused me was that I had to go somewhere called 'Tel Fyr,' to visit someone within the 'Corprusarium,' whatever _that _may be."

Hui gasped from shock. "Nerevar, the Corprusarium is where victims of the Corprus, the disease brought about by Dagoth Ur, are kept for study, to one day develop a cure.

Nerevar, do you know who is fabled to dwell within the Corprusarium?"

"No," I replied, "who?"

Hui announced in a undeniable voice, "The last living _Dwemer_."

o0o

Immediately, I called upon the Pilgrimage to bring forth to me their mages, warriors, and archers. When all were gathered, I gave unto them a direct order.

"Heed these words archers, warriors, and mages of the Pilgrimage: I am to travel East, to the wizards tower of Tel Fyr. During my leave, I leave the protection of the Pilgrimage under _your _watchful eyes. Treat my people well, keep them from harm... do as _I_ would do." Then, to further distinguish them, I gave each of the protectors a white sash to wear, to make them easily identifiable.

With that, Hui, Zela, and I left Eastward atop our horses. Zela rode behind me atop my horse while Hui rode alone atop his. A day of riding brought us to the shore of the Sea of Ghosts, the eastern sea of Vvardenfell. Examining the map, I took notice of the many, small islands that dotted the path Southeast from our current position, to the island where Tel Fyr was.

"Hui," I said, "a many number of land masses and waterways halt our path to Tel Fyr. How are we to reach our destination?"

In response, Hui stood a few steps forward to the very edge of the water. Then, with a motion of the hand and a display of his magic prowess, created a bridge (made from the same energy he used to create the great shield at the bridge), linking our shore to a small island in the distance.

Showoff.

However, thus was our means of travel for the next day, hopping from land to land across these conjured bridges.

At about one hour past noon the next day, while crossing a particularly long conjured bridge, a large, strange plant formation appeared from behind a rock formation. Large, mushroom like plants rose to the sky, structured almost like... a tower.

I turned to Hui. "Hui, what be that large plant to our right?" I asked him.

"That," replied Hui, "is Tel Fyr."

"But- But I thought you said that Tel Fyr was a wizard's _tower_?"

"It is, Zaden. You see, there are a group of wizards that operate only in Morrowind: the Telvanni. They inhabit these large organic plants, often magically enhancing and grown to fit their needs. In fact, the city of Sadrith Mora: wizards tower, residential homes, and shops in all, are all part of one _single_ plant organism.

Now, before we reach Tel Fyr, there is something _very_ important you must know about the Telvanni. The Telvanni have been referred to over the centuries by such terms as iconoclastic, profane, and unconventional. To the Telvanni, he who is more _powerful_ (and not necessarily higher _rank_) is the one who assumes control. More often than not, wizards rise within the ranks not by following their rules, but by _killing_ their superiors.

The Telvanni see authority as power, and anyone more powerful then they are are an immediate threat.

That is why, Zaden and Zela, I must as something of you: do not pose as a superior power to them. If the Telvanni wizards see you as superior to themselves, they will see you as a _threat_, and will attempt to kill you. I implore you to act as humble as possible in their presence."

Zela nodded. "Very well, Hui," she replied, "I shall not pose a threat... that is, unless they do so _first_."

"I shall do so as well," I replied.

As we strode across the last conjured bridge, nearing ever closer to the organic wizard's tower, I began to... feel something. It was a feeling I have never felt before. It was like... a sound, at the edge of hearing, a presence, if you will, coming from the tower itself.

I looked back to Zela. "Can you hear that?" I asked her.

"Hear what, Zaden?" she asked back.

"It is like a faint sound, a presence, emanating from the tower. Can you not feel it?"

Zela shook her head. "Sorry, I hear nothing? Are you feeling ok?"

Suddenly, from my left, Hui began to laugh to himself.

"And what," I asked him, "is so funny, wizard?"

"Zela thinks you crazy, Zaden, but little does she and you know... I hear the sounds as well."

"You can hear the faint noise? The presence from the tower?" I asked.

Hui nodded. "Indeed I can," he replied.

Zela looked utterly confused. "Am I the only one of us three," she said, "that has remained sane?"

Hui laughed again. "No, Zela, we are all sane here," he said. "What Zaden and I feel is merely the natural mana, flowing throughout nature, or to be more specific, the wizard tower. You are confused, Zaden, because your senses have been, up until now, impaired. All your life, the abilities of the mage, to sense the mana about you, has been _denied_ to you. Now, you can feel mana... and the mana about this tower is _strong_ indeed."

Once upon the shore of the island, we hitched our horses to the trunk of a sturdy tree and we approached the round door of the tower. I began to reach for a door knob or handle with which to open the door, only to find that the door was without _either_. "What in Oblivion?" I asked myself out loud. "How are we to open a door that is without an means to open it _with_?"

"Allow me," said Hui, and he approached the door as well. With the simple motion of his hand, the round door rolled to its right, revealing a long, narrow corridor within. I, with Hui and Zela following (in that order), entered the tower and followed the corridor to its end.

The corridor lead to a main hall, inhabited by Telvanni wizards. All were male Dunmer and all dressed alike (black wizard robes and black wizard hats.) As soon as us three set foot within the main room, all the wizards' piercing glared fixed upon us.

Apparently, we were _not_ welcome.

One of the wizards approached me, his blood red eyes glaring into mine. "Who are you," he commanded, "and what gives you the authority to enter our tower unannounced?"

"I am Zaden," I replied, "and I am here to seek council with the Dwemer."

"Under who's authority?" he asked.

I was on the cusp of answering "Azura", but I thought back to what Hui said. I was _not_ to imply that I was of high importance, and traveling on the will of a _god_ is as important as you can get!

"My own authority," I finally replied.

The wizard scoffed at me. "What _little_ authority that may be," he said. "You are not welcome here, Imperial, and I suggest you leave immediately."

"For what reason am I not welcome?" I asked.

"You, or your companions, have not been summoned here by our lord, Divayth Fyr. And besides, there is absolutely no chance that our lord would_ ever_ associate with people such as yourself: a warrior, a thief, and... an Argonian." The wizard approached Hui. "Take heed of _this_ one, brothers. He dresses in mage clothing and thinks himself a wizard."

"I _am_ a wizard," replied Hui, with anger in his voice.

The Dunmer laughed right in Hui's face. "That I highly doubt!" he taunted. "You beast races are only good for one thing... slave work."

"That is where you are wrong Dunmer! I am an accomplished mage of the Mages Guild!" Hui was so enraged now, he went against his own warning, and implied high rank upon himself.

"Is that so?" said the Dunmer. He then looked back to one of his "brothers." "Brother," he said, "bring me a pair of shackles and bind this Argonian's hands. Show him how true Argonians are _meant_ to live."

Another wizard approached, holding in his hands open wrist shackles that glowed with enchantments. Hui, however, saw to it that those pieces of iron never touched his skin. With the quick wave of his hand, the shackles began to rapidly glow with heat. Hotter and brighter it went until it looked as if pulled freshly from the kilm. The heated metal burned the wizard's hands severely, causing him to drop them to the floor, where they continued to burn through the organic matter, leaving a smoldering hole in the floor.

"You bastard Argonian!" said the first wizard. "I shall teach you respect through pain," then summoned flames from his open hands.

Suddenly, before the Dunmer could strike, an imposing voice came booming through the room and corridors. "ENOUGH!"

Suddenly, the flames in the Dunmer's hands were extinguished and at once, every single Telvanni wizard was lifted off the ground and thrown into the ceiling above, smashing their skulls against it, then thrown back to the ground with equivalent force. All were left either unconscious or too injured to stand up.

There, at the opposite side of the main room, stood an imposing Dunmer. His face showed old age, but his eyes still glimmered with a certain youth. He sported snow white hair atop his head (tied into a warrior's ponytail) and white facial hair, and was clad in a full suit (minus the helm) of daedric armor!

The Dunmer walked proudly across the floor of the hall, stepping over the bodies of the other wizards. He stopped above the body of the wizard who first confronted us and, with powerful legs, stomped his right foot against his lower spine, then putting pressure against it.

"What in Oblivion," he boastfully said to the wizard, "do you thing you are trying to accomplish, wizard, by killing our honored guests?"

Now, apparently, we are _honored_ guests.

"Lord Divayth Fyr," he said, pained from his injuries, "I was merely upholding the integrity of our House by-"

Divayth slammed his foot against the Dunmer's spine yet again. "By killing the Nerevar and his guest?!"

"He is Nerevar?!" he asked.

"Yes, that he is. Perhaps if you were not preoccupied with slaughtering him, you would have known that!" He stomped the Dunmer's spine once more, finally breaking it, and causing the wizard to black out from the pain.

The armor clad Dunmer approached me and gave me a respectable bow. "I apologize profusely for the actions of these wizards. You must understand, we are a _secluded_ type, and after many years of seclusion, one tends to shy from visitors."

"Apology accepted," I replied. "I am use to the treatment."

The Dunmer bowed yet again. "Lord Divayth Fyr," he greeted himself, "head of Tel Fyr, at your service."

"Thank you, Dunmer. I am Zaden, Nerevar Incarnate. To my right is Zela, former member of the Thieves Guild. To my left is Hui, wizard of the Mages Guild."

"Greetings to all," he said. "What may I do for you today?"

"I wish to seek counsel with... the Dwemer."

"Ah, yes," he replied nonchalantly, "the Dwemer. That may be arranged... Follow me."

o0o

Lord Divayth Fyr led Hui, Zela, and I to the lower levels of Tel Fyr, leading us through a maze of cramped, narrow corridors. Deeper and deeper they went, the air becoming increasingly thin. At one point, the organic walls bottle necked and impeded our progress, but a simple display of Divayth Fyr's magic power rapidly expanded the enclosed walls with great speed, and we were able to continue forward.

"Lord Divayth Fyr," I said to him at one point during our walk, "if I may ask... how was it that you knew who I was before I introduced myself?"

"Because you are very reminiscent of Indoril Nerevar," he replied. "You see, Nerevar Zaden, everyone has an aura about them, and some (such as myself) can _sense_ other's auras. Every person's aura is unique, no two are exactly the same. However, your aura, Nerevar Zaden, is _strikingly_ similar to that of Indoril Nerevar's."

"But Lord Fyr, how is it possible that you would know Indoril Nerevar's aura, unless-"

"I was_ there_ during his lifetime to witness it, over thirty five centuries ago?" he finished. "Your assumption is correct. I am, in fact, over seventy centuries old. If you wonder how I was able to achieve such an age... I have learned secrets that I wish to remain as such: secrets.

But as I was saying...

Indoril Nerevar and I were good friends. In some ways, he had two personalities: one of _battle_, and one of _peace_. He was a kind, gentle, almost philosophical individual when a sword was not chutched in his hands. But when the call for war arised, he gave in to all emotions of rage and anger, while still maintaining a intelligent mind. Watching him in battle was like watching flood waters rip through an untouched forest: beautiful, yet devastating."

After we walked the corridors for another few minutes, traveling ever deeper beneath the surface, we finally happened upon another round door, made from a large slab of Dwemer metal. Before Lord Fyr opened the door, he gave us three a warning. "This," he said, "is the Corprusarium, where we house victims of the disease. You may wish to breath through your mouth from here on in."

Only until _after_ he opened the door did the warning become apparent.

With the motion of his hand, the door rolled open and we all were hit with a gust of humid air. The air reeked with the smell of rotted flesh and decaying bodies, gasses hung in the still air, giving it a distinct green tinge. No longer were the walls organic. They were now of solid rock.

Lord Fyr led us through a large cavern, lined with lit torches. At the opposite end of the cavern was a tall Argonian, clad in steel armor, brandishing a spear, guarding a wooden door. The Argonian sets his eyes upon Lord Fyr and his spirits seem lifted.

"Ah, milord," he greeted, "glad to see you have ripped yourself from your studies. What brings you here... and who are your guests?"

"Greetings, Warden. The one clad in white," Lord Fyr replied, "is the reincarnation of Nerevar. He and his companions seek audience with the Dwemer."

"Nerevar?... I see. Well, Nerevar, normally, I would not allow a stranger to Tel Fyr to enter so unannounced, but seeing as Lord Fyr gives such a direct order... I shall let you enter." The Argonian reached into the pocket of his pants and retrieved a large, metal key.

"Beyond this door, a variable maze of rock caverns awaits, as well as those infected by the Corprus disease. I must warn you, Nerevar and friends, to avoid _any_ and _all _contact by the infected ones, for there is _no cure_ for the Corprus. Also, the minds of the victims have been deranged and they will attack you on sight. However, by no means, are you to bring any physical harm upon the infected. Has all been understood?"

I nodded. "Yes," I replied.

The Argonian placed the key into my hand and I approached the door. Unlocking the door and pushing it open, the stench of rot was all the more pungent. Then, as I began to shut the door, the Argonian gave one last word of advice. "Take the path on the right," he said.

The winding paths of the Corprusarium were brightly lit with many torches lining the rock walls, making the green gasses in the air illuminate. The walls echoed with distant pained groaning, the voices of the disease victims. Hui volunteered to lead us as we walked the corridors, assuring us that _if_ attacked, he could project a magic shield and protect us.

When the single path split into three, I did just as the Warden advised and took the path on the right. Moving ever forward, the deathly groans grew louder and closer. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, when walking into a large cavern, we unfortunately stumbled upon a Corprus victim. It was both a saddening and terrifying sight.

His skin was turned a pure ash gray, his eyes like that of a blinded one, and had hair that had fallen out in clumps. Parts of his body had the flesh _rotting_ away, bearing muscle tissue and bone. He walked aimlessly across the cavern floor, voicing his pained moans.

I turned to Hui and Zela and silently mouthed the words "Keep quite" and "Follow me." When the Corprus victim faced the wall to our left, we all began to sneak our way across the opposite wall, keeping as much distance from _him_ as possible. We made it across halfway without any problems. But as I hugged the rock wall, a stone came loose and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

The Corprus victim, with keen hearing, instantly turned to the source of the noise. The very instant his soulless eyes fell upon us, the victim let out a piercing shriek that resonated throughout the entire Corprusarium. He then charged us at full speed, just as the Warden said he would. Thankfully, Hui was quick thinking, and summoned a magic shield between us and the victim, pushing him away.

"Damn it!" I exclaimed. "That screech has no doubt alerted all the Corprus victims of our presence. We must find the Dwemer and_ fast_!"

With that, we ran down the winding paths of the Corprusarium, desperately searching for any sign of the Dwemer's location. With no true sense of direction, we were, in essence, blind. After another few minutes of frantic searching, we stumbled upon yet another victim... but this one was _nothing_ like the other.

This victim shared a _few_ of the common traits of those infected by Corprus: gray skin, rotted flesh, and a soulless stare, but this victim was _horribly_ disfigured. All the extremities on its left side were bloated twice their size and the right side of its face was stretched like melted wax. This victim treated us no different, attacking us on sight.

Hui was there to save Zela and I yet again, summoning a shield and blocking the Corprus victim's charge. It was unrelenting, pounding away at the shield with its giant, bloated arm.

As Hui held off the victim, I look ahead down the corridor. There, at its dead end, was a circular door of Dwemer metal. "There!" I yelled. "He must be beyond that door!"

"I will pin this Corprus victim," said Hui. "Run ahead and open the door. I shall rejoin you!"

Hui pushed the shield forward and pinned the Corprus victim between that and the rock wall of the corridor. Zela and I immediately ran to the Dwemer door and, using all my strength, grabbed the slab by its edges and rolled it open to its right. Once Zela stepped through, I turned back to Hui and signaled him to return to us. Hui threw the victim aside and ran through the archway, shutting the door behind him.

o0o

There was a distinct quite on the other side of the metal door. We could hear the Corprus victim pounding away from the other side, but not even _he_ could break through. The rock corridors led lower below the earth, so we followed them still.

The descending passage lead to another cavern. Roots from the trees above broke through the cavern's ceiling and continued into the floor below. As we searched, we all picked up on a faint sound... the sound of machinery in the distance. Hui, Zela, and I followed the noises to its source, following the cavern as it bended left.

As we turned a corner, we were met by a _peculiar_ sight. One corner of the cavern was made to look like a homestead, a large wooden platform constructed for its floor. It had all the makings of a home: a wardrobe for clothes, a roaring fire with a blackened pot hung above its flames (where a meat stew cooked), a dinning table (with foods spread upon it), and a bookshelf stocked full of books.

At the back of this makeshift home was a large red certain that spanned the entire length of the platform. From behind, a bright source of light illuminated the shadow (from the waist up) of a short, fat man, bent over a table, busily working. He muttered and pondered out loud to himself a constant stream of mechanical nonsense which made _absolutely_ no sense to me.

"What to do?" he asked himself out loud. "What to do? Let me see... The engine of the Centurion runs at an idle speed of one and a half thousand revolutions per minute and with a maximum rpm of nine and a half thousand... To increase the maximum potential of the Centurion's arm strength and speed, its gear ratios must be altered... If I increase the teeth ratio in the gears from twenty five: five to thirty six: six, I can effectively increase maximum potential by forty six percent... but with more, _smaller_ teeth, the chances of teeth being stripped and broken increases fifty six percent... and that brings me back to square one... What to do? What to do?"

"Dwemer," I finally said, "I wish to speak with you.

The Dwemer burst through the curtain. "What is it?" he asked irritatedly, "Can you not see that I am quite _busy_?!"

Setting our eyes upon the Dwemer, we were (needless to say)... awestruck. His skin was that of a Corprus victim, ash gray (but for him, relatively free of rot.) His ears were that of a Dunmer, long and pointed. His eyes showed both age and youth, knowledge and wisdom. A long, gray beard hung from his chin and down his bloated stomach, which stretched _far_ out beyond his chest. Beyond his waist, his legs and posterior were absent, replaced with a mechanical set of six, insect like legs. He, no doubt, constructed them himself.

The Dwemer approached on his mechanical legs, moving in a fashion similar to that of a spider. "For what reason," he asked, "have you disturbed my work, Imperial?"

I was speechless, unable to conceive what was before me. Was this half mechanical being _truly_ a Dwemer, the _last_ Dwemer? If so, how was he able to live for this long, _centuries_ after the disappearance of his kind?

The Dwemer became angry when I did not respond. "Since you are _obviously_ so unintelligible to answer a simple question, I will have to ask you to lea-"

"Wait!" I finally said, "I have come here, Dwemer, to-"

"I _do_ have a name, Imperial, and I would very much prefer that you refer to me by it."

"Which would be?" I asked.

"Yagrum Bagarn," he replied. "And what be your names?"

"The Argonian is Hui, Wizard of the Mages Guild, the Dunmer is Zela, thief of the Thieves Guild, and _I _am Zaden, Nerevar Incarnate."

His eyes widened slightly when he heard that last bit. "Nerevar?" he asked. "I remember meeting your _foremost_ many centuries ago... He was responsible for the murder of King Dumac, was he not?"

"That was a _past_ life, and the actions of _another_. I am _different_."

"We shall see... What brings you to my modest home, Nerevar?"

"I was sent here to seek from you 'artifacts of power to aid me in battle.'"

"And why, might I ask, would I _ever_ do such a thing for a complete stranger?" he asked.

"I was sent my the directed orders of Azura Herself," I replied.

The Dwemer's old eyes lit up at the mention of Her name. "Azura!" he exclaimed. "Why did you not mention that in the beginning? I have been expecting you!"

"Have you?" I asked. "Since when?"

"Ever since a few days ago, when Azura spoke to me in a dream. She said unto me 'A servant of mine travels to the Corprusarium to seek you. Bestow onto him your most powerful of weapons, weapon that will further him to his destiny.' I shall do as She commands... but I know not what to give you-" suddenly, his eyes fell upon my shotguns, holstered at my waist. "Those weapons!" he said. "Let me see them!"

I unholstered that shotgun on my left and placed it into his gray and wrinkled hands. He examined the gun intently, testing the trigger mechanisms, checking the sights, and even going as far as examining the shells within. Once satisfied, he placed the gun back into my hands.

"Those weapons," said Yagrum, "albeit an Imperialized version, are truly well made pieces. How you were able to acquire them is a mystery to me, but I now better know what to bestow upon you."

The Dwemer skittered across the wooden floor, his mechanical legs working together in perfect order, and approached his wardrobe. he flew the door open to reveal that the wardrobe was, in fact, far from one. Within was a multitude of Dwemer creations: pieces of armor, weapons, and simple contraptions, the likes of which I have never seen.

"I have gifts for you, Nerevar," the Dwemer said as he searched the wardrobe, "and for your friends as well, if they would like." He then emerged from the wardrobe with his arms full of mechanical things and then spread them upon his dining room table. The first thing he grabbed from off the table was a long, rectangular sheath with what looked like the butt of a gun peeking from its opening.

"This weapon," he said as he presented it to me, "is Blunderbuss. It was created during the Golden Age of the Dwemer, an age that, unfortunately, ended with their disappearance. Remove it from its sheath and I shall explain its finer points to you.

So I did. Grabbing from the stock, I slid the weapon from its sheath. It was similar to the shotguns on my waist, but had but one barrel and a sliding fore stock beneath it. The metal of the gun was a brilliant sterling silver while the stock and fore stock were made from black wood, polished to a shine. Beneath the end of the barrel, a large "Bowie" knife was attacked, allowing for close combat (or so I assumed.)

[Authors Note: I found it really hard to explain what the new shotgun looked like. If you didn't fully understand what it was I was explaining, Zaden received a pump action shotgun. To be more specific, Remington 870 Express Magnum (with bayonet), just replace the stock and forestock with black wood and the metal parts are silver.]

"It is _truly _beautiful," I commented, "but what is the purpose of the sliding fore stock?"

"When pulled toward you, a mechanism ejects the spent shells from the gun. With a push forward, a shell is loaded into the chamber and is automatically ready to be fire. Go ahead, give it a try... but do not shoot! Just try the _mechanism_."

Sliding the fore stock toward my chest, the gun clicked, and a golden shell came tumbling out of the gun through a slot on the right of the gun, falling to the ground with a soft clang. Sliding the stock back, the gun sounded a clung, signifying that a shell was automatically loaded. With practice, I could unload and reload a shell in two blinks of an eye.

"I thank you, Yagrum Bagarn, for this one-of-a-kind piece," I said with a bow. "However, my only concern is that, with this weapon, I will use shells at an increased rate, and I can only carry so many. Not to mention they are _quite_ scarce to come by."

"Fear not, Nerevar," replied the Dwemer, "for Blunderbuss is specially enchanted to solve that exact problem. No matter the number of times you reload this weapon, Blunderbuss shall _never_ run dry."

I slipped Blunderbuss back into its sheath, the bayonet sliding through a slit at the bottom. I bowed and thanked the Dwemer once again for his gift. He then asked for Hui to step forward. When he did, the Dwemer asked Hui to give him his staff. Hui was understandably reluctant, but he was eventually convinced to do so.

The Dwemer examined the staff intently (for what, I do not know.) As far as I could tell, he was satisfied with it. Then, when he set his old eyes upon the staff's crystal, fixed upon the staff's head, he shook his head in disappointment, ripped it right off, and tossed it over his shoulder like a piece of trash.

Hui was outraged. "What in Oblivion do you think you are doing?!" Hui asked.

"Relax," replied the Dwemer. "That crystal was, for lack of better word, _garbage_. The crystal of a wizard's staff is meant to increase the potency of one's power. While your crystal did just that, it only did so at a _pitiful_ percentage. I have one much _more_ potent for you, Argonian."

The Dwemer skittered back to the wardrobe and retrieved from it a large, blood red crystal. "_This_ crystal," said the Dwemer, "I found deep within a Dwemer excavation sight. This will effectively multiply your power _ten_ fold. Here, give it a try."

The Dwemer handed Hui the crystal-less staff, then the crystal itself. The moment the crystal fell into Hui's hand, I could feel a surge of mana about him, like the life energy from the tower above was being absorbed, like a sponge, into the crystal. When Hui fixed it atop his staff, the absorbed energy within spread through all his body, and the crystal gained a heartbeat, a heartbeat that synchronized with Hui's heart.

"I- I feel... incredible!" said Hui. "It is like I gained a second heart."

"The energy you and that crystal share are one and the same," said the Dwemer. "With this staff and crystal as a catalyst, your potential as a mage is near infinite. Use it wisely, Wizard."

The Dwemer then called upon Zela. He asked her to present before him all the weapons she currently had concealed. All that she could produce, however, was the highly decorative silver dagger she sheathed by her waist. "This is all that I have carried for quite some time now," she said.

The Dwemer shook his head. "That," he said, "will simple _not_ do for a member of the Thieves Guild. You are deserving of arms of a _higher_ caliber, especially since you travel with Nerevar... I have the _perfect_ gift for you."

The Dwemer retrieved from his table a leather belt, lined with knife loops its entire length. A pair of loops held a pair of dual short swords, made of the bronzish Dwemer metal. In the others were a matching set of seven silver knives with black leather handles.

Once Zela had finished tightening the belt on her slender waist, she took a short sword in each hand and began to inspect them in her own, _special_ way. She did a good number of frightening things: flipping the swords in the air and catching them, balancing the sword by the tip of its blade on her palm, spinning the sword on its cross-guard. Once satisfied, she slipped them back into their loops.

"Perfectly balanced," she commented to the Dwemer.

"Thank you, Dunmer," he replied back. "It is nice to see appreciation for my creations. Now, I must explain a special feature of the _daggers_. Do you see that gold button on the handle?" Zela slid one of the knives from its loop, confirmed the button's position on the handle and nodded. "Now... aim the point of the blade at, let us say... the wooden wardrobe, and press the button. I think you will be pleased at the results."

Zela did just that, taking precise aim at the wardrobe's door. With the push of the golden button, the knife blade shot from the handle like an arrow and plunged halfway through the solid wood.

"Now_ this_ shall be useful," Zela said with a grin.

"Imagine what such a weapon would do to your_ enemies_," said the Dwemer. "Just, try not to lose the blades, for they are quite hard to come by," he joked.

The three of us made one last bow of thanks to the Dwemer. "We thank you _very_ much our gifts, Yagrum Bagarn," I said to him. "It as _truly_ an honor to stand in your presence."

"Please," he replied, "the pleasure is all _mine_. It is not everyday that one meets the Nerevar. But, before you take your leave... I feel that there are unanswered questions you wish to voice. Please, speak them now, and I shall answer to the best of my ability."

I paused. "... Are you truly the last of the Dwemer? The last of your kind?" I asked.

The Dwemer sighed. "Yes," he replied. "There is no doubt in my mind that I _am_ the last."

Hui took a step forward. "If I may ask," Hui said, "how was it possible that your entire race disappeared while _you_ remained?"

The Dwemer lowered his head. "It is a story... that I know well... but have not retold for quite some time...

Before I tell my story, I must ask you something... What do you know of The Heart of Lorkhan and Kagrenac?"

"I know of that," said Hui, as if coming to a realization. "I remember telling the story of your people's disappearance to Zaden on the first day we met. I explained to him that the Dwemer disappeared when Lord Kagrenac attempted to harness the power of the Heart of Lorkhan. Am I accurate in saying that?"

"Yes," replied the Dwemer, "and no. Lord Kagrenac _was_ successful in harnessing the power of the Heart of Lorkhan with Kagrenac's Tools, deep beneath Red Mountain, but it was not for that reason _alone_ that the Dwemer were whipped clean from Nirn.

The other reason, and perhaps the most _important_ reason of all, was what the Dwemer were attempting to construct. Beneath Red Mountain, my people were in the process of constructing... Akhulakhan, an ancient Dwemer god that was slain long ago in our history. Beneath Red Mountain, my people attempted to resurrect Akhulakhan through the creation of a mechanized body with which to house his soul.

I know this, for I helped _construct_ him, back when I was a young man (much like yourself, Nerevar) and_ long_ before I was diseased and mechanized.

Near the end of Akhulakhan's construction, we hit a snag that halted the construction of the outer body. We were, however, on the very verge of releasing the Heart's power. There was a need for a book of architecture, for more sturdy reinforcements for the outer body. The only place such a book could be found was in the possession of Hermaeus Mora, the daedric prince of knowledge, in his realm of Apocrypha.

_I_ volunteered to retrieve said book, and I was quickly teleported to Heraeus's realm.

For a lover of knowledge such as I, Apocrypha was... beautiful. An endless library surrounded me, book shelves reaching higher than I could see, stacked in rows far beyond the horizon. All the books looked exactly alike, with black leather covers and not a single word or lettering on the covers to distinguish them apart.

With the help of one of the ghostly attendants of the library, we searched for the book for countless days without any results. As we searched, I was tempted ever so to read the countless _other_ books that filled the shelves, but I restrained myself, knowing well that I could never rip myself away from the books if I started. After about a _month_ of search, I finally found what I searched for, and was teleported back beneath Red Mountain.

Upon my return, I found the chamber of Akhulakhan to be completely devoid of life. All that stood within was myself and an unfinished Akhulakhan. The ground was littered with piles of ashes, ashes that were once my fellow Dwemer. In my absence, all my colleges were _killed_.

Unable to comprehend the loss of my friends and race, I traveled to the Dwemer city built in the side of Red Mountain, Odrosal. I was met with the same sight there: the ashes of the Dwemer blanketed the floors.

Not a live Dwemer was to be found.

I wandered the landscape about Red Mountain, searching for any shred of Dwemer survivors. During my searches, I was attacked by a man infected with Corprus. He ripped and bit at my flesh unrelentingly. I was able to kill him, but the damage had already been done. I was infected, and slowly, I saw myself become more and more deformed by the disease.

Once the physical manifestation of the disease became apparent, life became _increasingly_ difficult for me. Not a soul would speak a word to me, except "Away to Tel Fyr with you!" At first, I thought it an insult, but when I learned of the Corprusarium, I knew that they, in a way, were helping me.

So under covert travel (stowing away aboard a shipping vessel), I traveled to Tel Fyr. There, I met Divayth Fyr, the wizard you no doubt met. He, with his great generosity, gladly allowed me to live in a special part of the Corprusarium, where no victims could bring harm to me, where you stand at this very moment.

It was here, deep beneath the ground, the Corprus, though granting me with a near _endless_ life, further ravaged my body, bloating it, turning it into the _thing _you see today. After two thousands years of ravaging, I lost the use of my legs, so I constructed this pair of mechanical ones.

To this day, with the help of those above the surface, I continue my search for my fellow Dwemer, but any hope I still hold is fleeting. Any of my brothers who could have possibly survived... are long dead by _now_.

I am the last of the Dwemer."

For the longest time, Hui, Zela, and I stood in silence, awestruck by the Dwemer's story. Finally, the Dwemer spoke again. "Oh, forgive me, Nerevar," he said. "Please, you all must be very busy individuals, and I wish not to take up any more of your time. As I am aware of it, you have a Pilgrimage to attend to, Nerevar, do you not?"

"Indeed I do," I replied. I gave him another bow. "I thank you again for the chance to meet you."

As Hui, Zela, and I began our leave, Yagrum Bagarn gave us a few parting words. "Take care, Nerevar and friends," he said. "May the blessing of Azura be upon you, and may good fortune always find you, _wherever_ you may be."

o0o

Returning to the Pilgrimage atop our steeds, the Pilgrimage was in a festive mood once again. Returning to our grand tent, we were met with the sight of a man standing in front of it, standing as if waiting for a silt strider. When we approached him, he took notice of us and instantly got excited.

"Nerevar!" he said. "Finally, you have returned!"

He was a male Imperial with short blonde hair and blue eyes. He was dressed in a black robe, a coat of arms insignia embroiled on his left breast. He approached me and held out his hand for a handshake. "Miles Mandrake," he greeted himself. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Thank you," I said back. "How long have you waited for us here?"

"Oh, not too long, only four days... but that is not important. I am an adviser of The Blades, the ones loyal to the Empire."

"I am well aware of who The Blades are," I replied. "Our first encounter was not too friendly. But, I am wondering to myself why you have decided to seek me out in such a manner."

"You are in the next phase of your quest, Nerevar. You have reached the Tree of Dawn, received Moon and Star, and are not a fully realized Nerevar. Now, just as Azura proclaimed, you need to build an army, an army that will fight by your side as you enter through the Ghostgate and fight Dagoth Ur's forces.

I am here to make sure you do it right."

"Azura said that I am to present myself before the heads of all the great organizations in Vvardenfell: the Fighters Guild, the Mages Guild, the Imperial Legion, and the Blades."

"I have thought ahead for you," Miles said. He then reached into his pocket and retrieved a scroll, unrolling it in front of me. "I have already set up appointments for you, Nerevar."

"Well, that makes things much easier for me," I replied.

"First," he said, "you are to meet with the head of the Imperial Legion. His castle is located near the Imperial shipping port of Ebonheart. The Imperial Legion monopolizes the ebony metal mines, and with his support, your army shall have strong suits of armor, whose strength is only matched by daedric armor.

Next, you are to meet with Grandmaster of the Fighters Guild, located in the city of Balmora. With her support, the Fighters Guild will supply your army with powerful weapons, perhaps constructed from the ebony as well.

Finally, the last guild you are to get support from is the Mages Guild. The Arch-Mage of the Mages Guild is a secluded one, who dwells in a large, ancient oriental style 'dojo', far South of Balmora. With his support, your army will be outfitted with magic rings, gifting your soldiers with the power of battle mages: the ability to wield fire, frost, lightening, and perhaps much more."

"Excellent," I said. "But what of the Blades?"

"Oh, you already have our support, Nerevar. We shall supply the soldiers itself. Three hundred of our finest warriors shall be under your command on that fateful day."

I bowed to the man. "I am so humbled by your aid," I said, "and you are welcome to travel with me as we meet these heads. Tell me... when do we leave to meet these grand masters?"

"Tomorrow."

"No, I can not," I replied. "I am responsible for the Pilgrimage. I can not simply leave here. I must see to their return."

Miles shook his head. "Not to worry, Nerevar," he said. "The Blades sent soldiers with me. In your absence, they shall lead the Pilgrimage safely back to their homes."

I was overcome with joy. The next chapter in my journey had basically been set up for me already, and the return of the Pilgrimage was already taken care off. That night, the four of us held a small celebration within the confines of our tent.

One part of the journey over.

The next now begins.


	21. Unlocked Potential

Chapter 21: Unlocked Potential

The next morn, we group of four left in the early hours of dawn. We decided on leaving without the Pilgrimage's knowing. We believed it would be an easier letdown for them. With Miles riding behind Hui on his horse, we rode a _different_ trail back. This trail was much closer to the oceans. At all times, we could look over to our lefts and see an ocean stretching to the horizon. The supply of fish to eat was endless. Also, with the Pilgrimage no longer a hindrance to the speed we could travel, we rode at a _much_ faster pace, covering more ground per day.

As we rode day by day, one thing became certain: Hui, Zela, and I began a dislike, if not _hate_, of Miles. Our main issue with Miles was that he complained... frequently.

He would complain about his hunger. Then, when I managed to fish up some food, he would complain that it was undercooked, rancid, or outright _uneatable_. He would often complain from boredom, that our journeys had no excitement in them, but when a wild animal reared his ugly head, he would cower in fear, quickly demanding that we kill it.

I sometimes day-drempt of abandoning Miles somewhere in the wildeness. Unfortunately, he was necessary for my journey...

One Month Later...

One month through our return journey and we already covered _half_ the distance of the original journey. We already rounded the most Southeastern tip of Vvardenfell and began heading West.

It was four hours until noon. The sun still hung somewhat low in the sky while the morning dew still clung firmly to the grass. A thin fog from the southern ocean floated above the ground. Birds in the tree branches above sang their beautiful melodies.

And, as usual, Miles complained.

"This _damned_ morning humidity," he whined. "When will it end?" he asked outloud.

I gave an exhausted sigh. "At around the same time is _always_ has," I replied, "at around two hours from now, when the sun reaches its high point in the sky."

"Well, it seems that that period of morning humidity grows _longer_ and _longer _with every day! I wish the weather was a bit colder, just enough to rid us of this humidity."

I turned back to Zela, who was just as displeased with Miles's bickering as I. "And even then," I whispered to her, "he would complain _still._" Zela gave a stifled giggle.

"What did you say, Nerevar?" asked Miles.

"Oh, nothing," I lied, "nothing at all."

Miles gave an exhausted sigh. "May we take a break, Nerevar?" he asked.

The damn Imperial acts like a small child! "You wish to rest now?" I asked. "You ride upon a horse, Miles. It bears your load for you, and you are still in need of a break?!"

"Yes," he snapped back, "so could we do so? Please?!"

For the love Azura! "Fine," I relented, "but this is the _last_ break that you shall request for today! All other 'breaks' can only be given by either Zela, Hui, or _myself_."

"Not if _I_ have anything to say about it," he then muttered beneath his breath.

We then rode our horses off the trail and to our right, coming upon a large flat stone to rest on. An old tree grew atop the stone table, its roots reaching far across its flat surface and eventually reaching the soil. Hitching out horses to the tree, the _first_ thing Miles did was hop off the horse, sit beneath the tree, and drank deep from his skin of what he referred to as"water" (which we all knew was a very expensive bourbon.)

Zela, Hui, and I, rather, sat apart form Miles, at the other end of the stone table. There, Hui and I retrieved the pipes from our pockets, packed the bowls, and began to smoke. Out of the earshot of Miles, we could speak freely of him. The first insult came from myself.

"Is it me," I said, "or is Miles not the most _unagreeable_ person in all of existence? I simply can not understand how one can act in such a manner for so long and not tire of it. You would think, eventually, one would tire of acting miserable and accept their current situation."

"You would believe so," said Zela, "but clearly, Zaden, you have never been in the _extended_ company of the wealthy."

"And _you_ have?" I asked her.

She nodded. "Indeed, I have," she replied. "In my line of work as a thief, one may fine themselves, as the saying goes, as a 'wolf in sheep's clothing.' I, on a few occasions, have walked among the high society of Vvardenfell in order to accomplish my objectives.

So, with my personal experience, I can _confidently_ say this: Miles is the _better_ mannered of what I have seen."

"Well," I said, "then my hate of those of high society has just been set in stone."

"The Altmer, or 'High Elves'," said Zela, "are said to be the _worst_ of all in terms of their manners."

"Oh, that I know well. I have had my fair share of encounters with the Altmer, and in nearly _all_ of them, they look upon my as if I was vermin!"

"They see themselves as ones of 'pure blood', seeing themselves as superior over all others."

"On what bases?" I asked.

"On the bases," said Hui, "that nearly _half_ the Altmer population are born mages. Not only that, but the Altmer are the most naturally gifted of mages. They boast the later openly and show general disgust toward the other 'lesser races', especially the beast races (Argonian and Khajiit.)"

"But that can not be true," I said. "You are Argonian, Hui, and you are the most powerful mage I have ever laid eyes on."

"If only _others_ could see from your point of view, Zaden. But unfortunately, to most, I am but _slave_ material."

"I have been meaning to ask about that, Hui. In the Empire, the act of slavery is _illegal_. How is it that it is common practice here in Morrowind?"

"Because," said Zela, "slavery is an ancient Dunmer practice, and has been carried out throughout the centuries. Here, in the providence of Morrowind, the Dunmer are allowed to practice slavery, and is _protected_ by the Empire law."

"Why is it that most slaves are Argonian of Khajiit?" I asked.

"I do not know," replied Zela. "Many eras ago, the Ayleids, a race of elves, were notorious for their practice of slavery. For whatever reasons of their own, they chose the Argonians and Khajiit as their slaves."

"Much of my ancestory," said Hui, "were the slaves of Dunmer royalty in Vvardenfell. For much of my younger years, I was always told that I was _destined_ to follow in the footsteps of my parents, as a slave... but I was able to escape that fate."

"How did you escape you fate, Hui?" I asked him.

"It is a long story, Zaden, and I-"

Hui stopped mid-word. Slowly, his eyes shifted toward his right, across a grassy plain and toward a distant, thick grove of strange trees. "Can you feel that, Zaden?" he asked me.

The very moment he asked, I began to hear something emanating from the distant grove. It was the feeling, the presence I felt as we approached the tower Tel Fyr. However, this grove was _much_ more intense.

"I feel it as well, Hui," I said. "It is remmissant of Tel Fyr."

Hui suddenly stood up. "We must travel to the grove at once," he declared. He turned back to Miles, who still sat beneath the tree. "Miles!" Hui said. "Pry yourself from your flask for but one moment and rejoin us. We travel to the distant grove!"

Miles begrudgingly rejoined us three, with the horses' reins in hand. Mounting them, we rode toward the strange grove. As we neared closer and closer to it, the mana that emanated from the forest became more and more apparent. Soon, it became somewhat overwhelming, an incredible thing to feel. I could tell that Hui could feel it as well.

When we reached the edge of the grove, Hui dismounted his horse and approached one of the trees. These trees were unknown to me. They had thick trunks, signifying old age, covered in a paper thin bark. The many limbs, branches, and twigs that sprouted off of the trunk were long and hung like wet noodles toward the ground, covered in dark green vines and spade shaped leaves.

Hui placed his reptilian hand upon the tree's bark and began to 'listen' to the tree. I dismounted my horse and joined him to his left. "What is it, Hui?" I asked him.

"These trees," Hui said, "are ancient... perhaps as old as Vvardenfell _itself_. The mana flows so _fluidly _through this grove... This place is a breeding ground for magical energy."

'What are you thinking?" I asked.

Hui lifted his hand off the tree and turned to me with a smile. "_This_ place," he said, "shall be where we unlock your true potential. Here... I shall turn you into a mage.

Follow."

o0o

Hui lead me deep into the strange grove. Zela and Miles followed close (with Miles pulling the horses along by their reins.) Light was fleeting within the grove, the thick leaf canopy above blocked most of the sun's light. The floor of the grove was carpeted with roots, making traversing through a difficult task.

But one thing that stood out above all else in this grove (at least for Hui and I) was the _incredible_ amount of energy about us. The mana flowed so freely from tree to tree, the air was even seemed _sweet_ with it.

After a long while of search, Hui finally stumbled upon something. Near the center of the forest was a small circular clearing, only twenty feet across, bathed in golden sun light. "Here, Zaden," said Hui, "is where your potential shall be tested."

Hui approached Zela and Miles. "What I am about to do, Zela and Miles, is help Zaden unlock his mage powers. This involves a process that needs _complete_ concentration and, more importantly, no _outside_ distractions. That is why I ask of you two that, unless there is an _absolute_ emergency, to remain silent. Is that understood?"

Zela nodded. "Understood," she replied.

"If you say so," replied Miles in a disrespectful tone.

Ignoring Miles's tone, Hui lead me to the very center of the light-bathed clearing and we both sat facing each other, only a couple feet apart.

"Today," said Hui, his voice now in somewhat of a whisper, "we shall, together, attempt to bring into the light your mage powers. Here, in the center of this ancient grove, where the mana flows like a river, the process will be _much_ easier. However, before any of that can be done, I must find out what kind of mage you are."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"There are many kinds of mages, Zaden. What abilities you are able to unlock and wield determines what kind of mage you are. I, through a process dubbed 'mana linking,' can read the currents of mana in your body and, in the process, determine what type of mage you are.

'Mana linking' _can_ be a dangerous process, but _only_ if you resist... Are you prepared?"

"... I am ready," I replied.

Hui reached toward me and placed his middle and index finger on the center of my forehead. Suddenly, Hui's mana was merged with mine and I was suddenly overcome with energy. I felt strange, as if there were now _two_ souls housed within my body. Hui's heartbeat was synchronized with mine.

For that brief moment, Hui and I were _one_.

Hui lifted his fingers off my forehead. "Interesting..." Hui said. "I have read the currents of mana within and... it would seem that you are destined to be a battlemage."

"What is a battlemage?" I asked.

"A battle mage is one whose mage abilities are better served in combat. Usually, this pertains tooffensive magics:the ability to wield flame, frost, electric, and poison based attacks.

However, while we were joined, I sensed the potential for you to wield _other_ powers, powers that the _average_ battlemage would not be able to. In you, I saw the ability to summon creatures, beasts, or daedra to aid you in battle. Also, I saw the potential for you to summon magic shields (much like I did at the Dwemer bridge.)

When you are ready, we can begin the process of unlocking said abilities."

This was it. Before me was the opportunity to become greater than I have ever thought possible, and Hui would be my guide to greatness.

"Let us begin," I replied.

Hui gave a slight smile.

"First," said Hui, "we shall begin with the most rudimentary of the offensive magics: the ability to wield flame.

Close your eyes, Nerevar."

I did as he said. My world instantly went empty. The only thing I kept concentration on was Hui's voice.

"Imagine deep within yourself, Nerevar, in the very core of your heart... a flame, like that of a candle. Watch as it flickers and dances, burns silently. Now, grow that flame, feel as it becomes hotter. Now, the flame is like that of a torch. Now the flame roars, it has a voice of its own. Feel the heat of the flame now and spread it throughout your entire body. Now, grow that flame even still until it resembles that of a campfire. Now this flame had a need, a desire: to spread, to engulf all it touches, to _feed_. Let that fire feed, Nerevar, let it grow more and more. Now, what started out as a flame, has grown to the size of an entire forest, engulfing an entire valley with searing heat and light.

Now, Nerevar, take the entirety of that great fire deep within you, travel it up your body and through your right arm. Push all that energy through the palm of your hand.

Can you feel the energy being released?"

"I- I can," I replied.

"Open your eyes, Nerevar."

When I opened my eyes and an incredible sight awaited me. There, in the open palm of my right hand, was a flame, suspended above my skin by a mere inch.

A flame _I_ created.

Hui smiled. "You learn quickly, Nerevar," Hui said. "Not many are able to wield fire on their first try. Most students take weeks to do what you completed in mere _minutes_."

"Well," I said, "most students are not Nerevar Incarnate."

Hui laughed. "That is true... After the intensive process of unlocking your powers, you will find that wielding the power afterward will be like second nature. Now, if you are ready, Nerevar, we shall continue with frost."

"I am ready," I replied, extinguishing the flame in my hand.

I closed my eyes.

"Imagine yourself, Nerevar, at the edge of a mountainous glacier, floating in the frigid oceans near the northern boarders of Solstheim. You stand in the cold climate without a single piece of clothing upon you. Feel as the icy winds hit your bare skin, penetrating like a thousand knives. The natural warmth of your body begins to fail and you feel yourself becoming ever colder.

Now, lean forward from the glacier edge and fall toward the oceans below. The piercing winds growing ever colder as you plummet ever closer to the water surface. Then, you break through the water's barrier, and numbing cold hits _every_ surface of your body. The glacial waters flow into your veins, freezing you until you can no longer feel the cold.

Now, channel all that cold up and through your right arm, to the palm of your hand... and release it.

...

Open your eyes."

Now, floating in the palm of my hand (which was now riddled with goose bumps) was a swirling ball of icy blue air, a thick fog of cold vapors falling toward the ground from it.

"You continue to amaze me, Nerevar" Hui said. "Now, I know you are anxious to try your new abilities." I nodded. "However, I must insist that you refrain from doing so until we leave this grove. We would not want to damage these trees, would we?"

I shook my head. "No, I suppose not," I replied.

"Next," said Hui, "we shall attempt to unlock the ability to wield _lightening_."

I closed my eyes.

"Now imagine yourself, Nerevar, in the open fields of the Grazelands. You stand alone, nothing but the ankle high grass about you. Suddenly, from the East, an incredible storm cell arrives from the ocean, carried upon mighty winds. In the blink of an eye, the storm has darkened the entire sky above, releasing a torrential downpour upon you. The only light you are given is from the intermittent flashes of lightening, followed closely with thunderous booms.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightening falls from the clouds, striking the tallest thing in the field.

You.

The lightening strikes you at the tip of your spine, coursing downward toward your feet. However, the electricity does not travel into the ground. Instead, the coursing power remains within your body, surging through every inch of it.

Now, channel that power through your right arm and release it through your hand.

...

Open your eyes."

My right hand was charged with electricity. Small arcs of lightening jumped from fingertip to fingertip, emanating a buzzing sound. I brought my two hands closer together and the arcs connected between the fingers of opposite hands. Finally, I halted the electric charge and closed my eyes, preparing for yet another power to be unlocked.

"Next," said Hui, "we shall attempt poison. _This_ is an ability not easily mastered, but its power is unmatched. However, the misuse of this perticular power can prove be deadly, so _do_ take care when wielding it...

Imagine yourself in the center of an endless desert, where your only companions are the sand and the dunes. You traverse this unforgiving landscape in search of an oasis... but to no avail. You body begins to fail from dehydration and fatigue and you collapse.

As you feel your life being evaporated by the sun's rays, you notice a creature approach you: a black scorpion. It crawls atop your right arm and, in one plunge of its stinger, injects a large dose of its venom beneath your flesh. The venom spreads rapidly through your arm, quickly attacking your nervous system. By the time the poison has spread to your chest, you no longer have control over your right arm. The venom begins its assault upon your heart. You will soon be dead.

But you fight back, Nerevar. With all your might, you are able to push the venom away from your heart, back through your arm, and release it through the palm of your hand.

...

Open your eyes."

Floating above my open palm now was a strange, dark green blob of a thick, water-like substance. It pulsated like a beating heart and emanating off of it was a thick, green cloud of vapors.

"Is this poison?" I asked Hui. "It is very... strange. How am I to know this is truly effective as a weapon."

"As I have said," replied Hui, "you will be able to test your offensive abilities once _outside_ the grove.

Now let us try a non offensive spell: the ability to conjure magic shields. These shields, depending on how powerful you create them, will be able to deflect a swinging blade, a shooting arrow, or even the spell of another mage.

For this, we shall stand."

Hui and I, in unison, got up off the ground.

"Up until now, Nerevar, you have unlocked the ability to wield the elemental forces with the aid of an _outside_ force: the inner flame, the frozen winds of Solstheim, the surging power of the lightening bolt, and the venomous sting of the scorpion. Now, to wield shields of energy, you must be able to summon the _pure _mana from within, mana that remains _unaltered_ from outside forces.

Tap into your pools of mana, Nerevar, draw from its energy. Channel it through your arm, and with an outstretched arm, turn that energy into an impenetrable shield."

I held my arm outstretched before me, my palm positioned as if halting someone. I concentrated only on tapping into those pools of mana. Once I located them, somewhere within the stomach, I channeled that energy up through my chest through the outstretched arm and out the palm.

Suddenly, a large, round, translucent purple shield of pure energy materialized before me. I waved my arm back and forth and the shield followed my hand's every movement, going wherever it pointed. Channeling more energy into the shield expanded its radius.

"How effective are these shields, Hui?" I asked him.

"Hand me one of your sidearms and I shall show you," he replied.

"Do you mean to shoot at me, Hui?"

"Fear not," Hui assured me, " I am certain the shield shall hold."

Normally, I would have _never_ imagined in my wildest dreams to relent one of my side arms to any other person (other than Zela.) However, with Hui, I felt at ease, and felt able to trust him. Unholstering the gun on my right, I tossed it over to him. The very moment he caught it, and without so much as a warning, he whipped the ends of the barrels toward the shield and fired both shells upon it.

I remained unharmed. The buckshot simply dissolved against the shield.

Dropping the shield, Hui tossed back the gun. As I reloaded the gun with a fresh pair of shells, Hui prepared me for my next lesson.

"This next and _last_ power I shall teach you," Hui said, "may very well be your most powerful. I shall now teach you the ability to summon beasts to aid you in combat.

You see, Nerevar, _every_ living thing has a soul. When a living thing dies, their soul passes on to places unknown. However, when a living thing is _slain_, the slayer obtains 'essence,' a spiritual representation of the slain soul. Every essence one obtains is stored somewhere deep within the mind.

Certain mages with the ability to duplicate those essences and create physical representations of those they have killed. These duplicates can be summoned any number of times (as long as you hold within you enough mana.) These representation are _absolutely_ loyal to the summoner and will follow their every command to the last detail.

Now, Nerevar, name a beast or creature you have killed. They could be a Cliff Racer, a Nix-Hound, or possible-"

"A Dremora," I answered, "like the ones we fought at Molag Mar."

Hui looked hesitant. "I- I do not think it wise to start with such an advanced being," Hui said. "Perhaps you should start off with something simpler like a-"

"No," I interrupted. "If I am to become as powerful a mage as possible, I must test my limits. I must attempt to summon the most powerful thing I have ever slain."

Hui smiled at my determination. "Very well," he replied, "you may attempt at the Dremora.

The key of this technique is to _intensel_y visualize the thing you wish to summon (in this case, the Dremora.)"

I closed my eyes once more and visualized the Dremora in my mind. I saw his skin, black as the night sky. I saw his strong figure, clad in red and black daedric armor. I saw his eyes, as red as fire.

Once the image was clear in my mind, I released through my arm a powerful amount of mana, more than all the previous spells combined.

"Was I successful?" I asked Hui.

"Open your eyes, Nerevar and witness for yourself," he replied.

Opening my eyes, a Dremora stood before me, clad in his demonic armor, with piercing red eyes and ash black skin, a daedric long sword sheathed upon his waist. In stark contrast to the Dremora I encountered in Molag Mar, this Dremora stood in a relaxed stance. When his eyes were set upon me, his look was not one of anger or rage. He met me, rather, with a blank stare.

I looked to Hui. "How can I be certain he is one I have summoned?" I asked him.

"Ask it a question," he replied. "Test its loyalty."

I looked back to the Dremora. "Who are you loyal to, Dremora?" I asked him.

"I am loyal," he replied in a deep, evil voice, "to he who has brought me into existence, to he who has given me life, a purpose. I am loyal to _you_, Nerevar."

"And until what ends shall you remain my servant?" I asked.

"Until you release me of my services... or death takes me," he replied.

I turned back to Hui. "Well _I_ am convinced," I said.

"Good," said Hui. "Now release him from your service, either by death or your command."

I turned back to the Dremora, who stood ready to carry out my_ any_ command. "I release you," I said to him, "from my service. They are no longer needed." The Dremora gave a final bow and, in a shower of golden sparks, disappeared.

o0o

Completed with the lessons, Hui, Zela, Miles, and I left the magical grove behind us. Escaping the shade of the trees, the sun felt warm on our skin. A few hours had passed since we entered, and now the sun was at its highest peak in the sky.

As we returned to the flat rock, I decided to ask Hui something that I dared not ask during our lessons.

"Hui," I said. "While we were in the process of our lessons, you referred to me the entire time as 'Nerevar' and not by my 'true' name. Why is that?"

"Because you _are_ Nerevar, Zaden," Hui replied. "Why would I not refer to you by who you are?"

"You refer to me as Nerevar in the company of the public, _that_ I can understand. But when it is but us (you, I, Zela, and whoever else we may travel with), please, refer to me as Zaden.

Do not see me as Nerevar. See me, rather, as a _friend_."

Hui smiled. "Very well, Zaden," he replied. "I shall do so."

As we headed back to the trail, Miles, who realized that he could speak (now that he was free from the grove), did so... rather freely.

"Well," he said, "now that you two spell-slingers are done perfecting your little magic tricks, could we possibly get some ground _covered_?! I would like to reach Ebonheart sometime before the next _year_!" He then flipped the top off his skin of bourbon, preparing to drink from it.

Becoming increasingly irritated by Miles's generally disrespectful manner, I decided to do something about it. I turned to Hui, who looked just as irritated at Miles as I. "Now that we are out of the grove," I said to him, "am I free to practice my magic?"

Hui nodded. "I can not see why not..." Hui replied.

"Watch this," I said, then pointed to Miles's skin of alcohol.

Miles began to bring the nossel to his mouth. However, before it reached, I channeled the mana through my arm and launched a small frost spell at the flask, making contact within a second before it touched his lips. Miles held the skin upside down, awaiting the liquid within... only to have it not make an appearance. Irritated, he began to violently shake the skin, hopping to release but a few drops. Nothing came out.

Finally, Miles brought the nossel to his eye and looked inside. "What in Oblivion?!" he exclaimed. "It is frozen solid!"

Hui and I could simply not stifle out amusement any longer and we finally burst into laughter. Miles turned furious.

"Which one of you is responsible for this?!" he demanded.

With a grin still on my face, I raised my hand. "That would be me," I replied.

Miles, in a failed attempt to appear forceful, marched strait toward me, frozen skin in hand, and forced it directly into my face. "I demand that you heat it back to liquid this instant!"

The evil grin on my face only grew at that prospect.

"Gladly," I replied.

Snatching the skin from his hand I quickly heated the ice within to a liquid state... but did not stop there. I continued to heat it even further. Soon, vapors of boiling alcohol began to shoot from the opening, followed shortly after by flames. Then, with a burst of mana, I engulfed the entire skin in a raging column of fire, blocking it from sight. When I stopped the inferno, the skin, along with its contents, were nowhere to be found, vaporized into the air.

Miles was not sure whether to be angered or awestruck. "You- You did that on purpose!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, sorry," I replied, being clearly sarcastic, "I suppose I do not know my own strength... perhaps this will teach you to be a tad bit more _respectful_ to your companions."

"You are going to pay me back for this, Nerevar!" he declared.

Then again, some people can _never _be taught...


	22. Ebonheart

Chapter 22: Knight of The Imperial Dragon

One Month Later...

With swift travel atop out steeds, we returned to the point where our journey began: the Gates of Vivec. From there, Ebonheart was not a few hours away. A narrow strip of land circled around Vivec and followed South, leading to our destination.

Ebonheart was a beautiful city. Built in the center of a calm, salt water bay, the entire city of Ebonheart was built like a huge, intricate stone castle. There were four districts of Ebonheart, each of them separated by stone bridges. The entrance into Ebonheart lead to the market district, a large open ground where merchants and artisans sold their various wears. Riding through this congested district proved to be a hassle. Live stock were allowed to walk freely through the streets. Imperial Legion guards patrolled as well, further adding to the congestion.

After squeezing our way through the market, a long, stone bridge lead to another island and the next district: the residential district. Here, thankfully, the streets were far less crowded. The architecture was heavily Imperial based: each side of the cobblestone street was lined with two story buildings, the second floor jutting out above the street. At some points, the outer walls of the second floors came within inches of touching, creating a sort of bubble for the street below.

After navigating the residential district, seeking out the next bridge through the maze of streets,the next island, the battlements, awaited us. This was where all the Imperial Legion soldiers in Ebonheart lived and trained. Wisely, this district held the only bridge that connected to Ebonheart Castle. So, in the event of a ground siege on the castle, enemy foot soldiers would have to travel strait through their armed forces, strait into the lion's den.

Finally, we reached the last of Ebonheart's bridges. This final bridge (nearly one hundred yards in length), put Castle Ebonheart directly in the center of the bay, _far_ out of the reach of siege weaponry. It was a grand castle, many guard towers stood tall above the main walls, one great wooden gate was its _only_ entrance.

Reaching the gate atop our horses, I expected some sort of warm welcome. Instead, we were met by the spears of Imperial guardsmen.

"Halt!" yelled one of them. "Who approaches Castle Ebonheart?"

"I am Zaden the White," I replied, "Nerevar Incarnate. The Argonian is Hui, wizard of the Mages Guild. The Dunmer is Zela, thief of the Thieves Guild. The Imperial is Miles, adviser of The Blades.

We stand before Castle Ebonheart for we wish to seek council with your lord, Knight of The Imperial Dragon, Varus Vantinius."

"Remain here," he commanded. "I shall get clearance from Varus Vantinius _himself_." The guard left, while four others stayed, halting our progress into the castle grounds.

As we waited, Zela whispered in my ear. "Zaden the _White_?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. "It was the name bestowed upon me by Azura Herself."

She laughed. "It fits you," she commented.

"I wonder why?" I joked. With my head turned, I signaled Hui to pull his horse up next to mine. Hui moved forward, stopping to my right.

"What is it, Zaden?" asked Hui.

"I wish to ask Miles something," I replied.

Miles had been reading a book throughout this entire time, a book entitled " A Brief History of The Empire: Volume II". The mention of Mile's name finally tore himself away from it. "What, Nerevar?" he abruptly snapped back.

"Just a quick question," I said. "What may I expect within the walls of Castle Ebonheart?"

Without hesitation, he replied, "A great number of opinionated Imperials who wish you dead."

I prayed he was joking. "... Excuse me?" I asked.

"The Imperial Legion is loyal to Imperialistic values. They often scoff at Dunmer religions and their beliefs. You, Nerevar, are considered a _god_ in the eyes of the Dunmer, so the Imperials within _may_ treat you with hostility."

"Did you not think it wise that I know this _before_ I came here?!"

"I did not think it would be important."

"Did not think it was _important_?! I am about to enter a castle where everyone within will wish to have my head served on a silver platter! I believe _that_ is important!"

"Calm yourself, Nerevar," said Miles. "You forget, I have _already_ arranged a meeting. There is no reason why we should not be allowed to enter."

"Well, for your sake, Miles," I said, "I hope you are right."

The guard returned from beyond the gate. "I have spoken with our lord," he said. "... He wishes you to leave the grounds of Castle Ebonheart at once. If you do not comply with his orders, we shall _force_ you off the grounds." All the guards then left, closing the gate behind them, leaving us standing outside the castle... alone.

Dumbfounded.

I turned to Miles, my blood beginning to boil with rage. "They did _not_ let us in," I said to Miles. "I thought you set up a damn meeting!"

"I did," he responded. "Something _else_ is at play here."

"What do you mean?" asked Hui.

"When I left my meeting with the Knight of The Imperial Dragon, I was _absolutely_ sure your meeting was scheduled to take place. Someone _else_ is not allowing us to enter."

"Like who?" I asked. "The guards?"

"Most likely the Master at Arms," answered Miles. "I recall he did not treat me with the _kindest_ of demeanors."

"So what are we to do now?" asked Hui.

I thought silently for a moment, weighing over every possibility and consequence. Finally, a solution was chosen.

"We shall break through the gate," I announced.

A collective "What?!" was exclaimed from Hui, Zela, and Miles.

"Have you gone mad?!" asked Miles. "We will be attacked by the multitude of guards within! We will be killed!"

"Not if Hui and I project magic shields around out horses," I retorted. "Any arrows shot at us will simply bounce off."

"But you do not know where the throne room is located."

"No, I do not... but that is where you become useful (for a change.) During our charge, you must tell us where to go at a moment's notice. If we stop for but a moment, we could very well be overrun.

Does everyone understand the plan?" Everyone but Miles nodded. "Good enough."

"On the count of three," I said, "blast the gate, Hui.

One... Two... Three!"

Hui charged a huge fireball and held it high over his head, then threw it at the door. It exploded upon contact, engulfing the entire gate in fire. When the flames cleared, a large smoldering hole was blasted in the very center of the door, wide enough for us to ride through.

"Go!" Miles yelled. "To the stairwell!"

Whipping the reins against our horses' backs, the pair of stallions galloped at full speed through the burning hole. A great courtyard laid on the other side of the door, populated by _many_ guards. Once beyond the castle walls, alarm bells began to ring violently. A guard called out from a high tower, his voice rang loud for all to hear. "Raise the alarms!" he yelled. "Nerevar has broke through our fortifications. Do not allow him to reach the throne room!"

The black and white stallions pressed through the crowded courtyard, weaving through the sword-wielding guards at a break neck speed. Reaching the stairwell, we began to climb the steep steps. Suddenly, a volley of arrows began to rain down upon us, bouncing off the magic shield. Looking behind, two tall, wooden archer towers seemed to loom over us, each packed with archers, their bows aimed toward us. Another volley was shot and, again, thanks to the magic shields about us, the arrows bounced off like rain drops.

Still maintaining the shield with his right hand, Hui began to charge a powerful lightening spell in his left hand. Rushing up the stairwell, guards in heavy armor stood in our path in an attempt to halt out progress, only to be bounced off our energy shields and tossed aside like rag dolls. We reached the top of the steps and another, though much smaller, gate awaited. "There," said Miles, "the throne room awaits beyond!" Dropping the shield for but a split second, Hui shot the lightening spell at the wooden gate, splintering it into a thousand pieces with a earsplitting boom.

Galloping into the castle, we entered into a long, strait corridor, rows and rows of stone pillars passed me on both sides. A long, red carpet stretched along the entire length. In the ever approaching distance, a wooden, double door stood in my path to the throne room. Taking the side arms from their holsters, I fired each shell into one of the doors' four hinges, effectively shattering them. Reaching the doors, Apoc reared upon his hind legs, and using its front hooves, kicked the doors down.

Once inside, we galloped to the foot of a tall staircase, atop of which was the Knight of the Imperial Dragon himself, Varus Vantinius. He jumped up from his throne, clearly frightened from the bang of the falling doors. He was dressed in the finest royal purple silk robe, white wolf's fur along the collar. He had long, gray hair, and aging lines across his face.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he yelled out, his voice still powerful. "Who are you and for what reason have you dismantled my door?" His eyes suddenly fell upon Miles. "Miles? Are you responsible for this?"

Miles was visibly distraught from the fighting. "No," he replied, "it was all the fault of Nerevar!"

Varus Vantinius's eyes then returned to me. "Nerevar?" he said. "Why have you done this?"

"Lord Knight of the Imperial Dragon," I said, "you have a _betrayer_ within your ranks. Someone, against your rule, gave the order to your sentinels to _deny_ us entry into Castle Ebonheart."

"So how is it that you stand before me now?" he asked.

"... We had to enter Castle Ebonheart by _force_," I replied.

A second later, a large group of Imperial soldiers, clad in steel armor, entered the room, brandishing steel spears with silver tips. They surrounded the two horses, aiming their spears toward our necks. Varus Vantinius began to walk slowly down the steps as he called out to his men.

"Sentinels, lower your weapons!" he demanded.

The soldier before me responded to his demand. "But my liege," he said, "they have defied your order and have forcibly entered Castle Ebonheart. They must be killed."

"_I_ did not give you the order to keep out Nerevar and his companions from my castle grounds. Who gave you the order to do so?"

"The Master at Arms, my liege, replied the guard.

I looked toward Miles, who gave me a "I-told-you-so" look.

Varus Vantinius was furious. "How dare he!" he vented. He pointed to two of the guards. "You two! Bring these horses to the stables. As for the rest of you, if you wish to keep your positions within Castle Ebonheart, bring the Master of Arms before me!" The guards immediately filed out, the black and white stallions led outside. Varus Vantinius approached us four.

"I apologize _profusely_ for the behavior of my men. You must understand, Nerevar, I gave them orders to allow you entrance within the castle."

"Well apparently," I said, "your Master at Arms holds more regard in the eyes of your own men."

"I must admit, the admiration my men hold for me has slipped as of late... but perhaps now, with my Master of Arms to be dealt with, my regard shall grow.

Again, I am _terribly_ sorry, Lord Nerevar, for the distress I have caused. If there is _anything_ I may do make up for my shortcomings, please say so."

I thought for a moment, then finally answered, "You could give us board for the night."

"Absolutely," he replied, "I shall prepare rooms for you four at once.

Well, now that that is settled... let us get down to business at hand... I _know_ why you are here, Nerevar, so you may spare me the explanation. As you may know, Miles has spoken to me all about you need for suits of armor. I hold in_ my_ grasp of power nearly _all_ ebony mines on Vvardenfell, and you request armor made of _my_ ebony.

However, I will not _so easily _give it to you."

"For what reason?" I asked.

"That would be too easy, would it not? No, you need to convince me, Nerevar. 'Why should I help you?', understand?"

"... Yes, I understand."

With that, he walked back up the stairs and sat back down upon his throne. "Inspire me," he said.

I paused. This seemed very odd for me. He _knew_ who I was, _what_ I wanted, and _why_ I was here... and yet, he still wished me to convince him. I suppose he simply wished to hear it from the horse's mouth.

"Knight of the Imperial Dragon," I began, "I am Zaden the White, the reincarnation of the legendary hero Nerevar. I come before you today, in these dark times, to ask of you something.

As I stand before you today, a dark lord, Dagoth Ur, grows in might and power every day, spreading his blight storms across Vvardenfell. If left to his own devices, he shall grow enough in power to overtake the whole providence of Morrowind and, eventually, the entire continent of Tamriel.

In less then a year from now, I am to stage an assault on Red Mountain. With three hundred mighty warriors of The Blades to aid me, I will march into the confines of The GhostGate and, with any luck, _slay_ Dagoth Ur. To do this, and to ensure the safety of my men, I wish to equip them with the finest weapons, magic items, and armor I can offer them. You hold within your power nearly all ebony mines on Vvardenfell. With such ebony, I may equip my men with incredible armor.

So, Knight of the Imperial Dragon, I stand before you... no... on my knees," getting on my knees, "begging you to give onto my men the armor they need to survive." I bowed my head, looking strait down at the red carpet beneath me. "I am at your mercy," I said.

I listened, waiting for a response. Then, The Grand master began to give a small laugh.

"Shit," I thought to myself, "he is going to say 'no'." Then, he finally spoke.

"Consider it done," he replied.

I lifted my head, rising to my feet. "Truly?" I asked.

"Of course! All I need to do is to simply place the order." He then turned to his right. "Scribe!"

A moment later, a small, Imperial boy came running in, carrying a scroll and a graphite pencil. "Yes, milord?" he asked.

"I would like to make an order for my ebony blacksmiths: Three hundred helms, three hundred chest pieces, three hundred pairs of gauntlets, three hundred grieves, three hundred pairs of boots, and three hundred tower shields."

"Yes, milord," said the boy, "the message shall be sent at once." The boy then went running out of the room.

I bowed to the Grand Master. "I thank you, Sir."

"No," he replied, "the pleasure is all _mine_, Nerevar."

Just then, the guards returned with a man with iron shackles around his wrists and ankles.

"Oh look," said Varus Vantinius, "the _criminal_ has arrived."

The Master at Arms was escorted by over ten soldiers, all of them aiming loaded crossbows toward his back. Once he was escorted to the foot of the throne stairwell, he was kicked in the back of his knees, causing him to fall flat on his face and unable to lift himself up.

"Constans Palenix," said the Knight of the Imperial Dragon, " have you _any_ explanation for your complete and utter defiance of my orders?!"

Constans lifted his head. "Nerevar," he said defiantly, "is a scourge against all the Imperial Legion strives to accomplish. We came to the providence of Morrowind in order to further advance the spread of The Empire. Nerevar of the Dunmer stands _against_ such progress. He would bring an end to the Empire if given the chance."

"Silence him!" ordered Varus Vantinius to one of the guards.

Whack! One of the guard's spears struck Constans in the back, causing him to fall back onto his face.

"Entertain whatever disillusions you will," said Varus Vantinius," but your transgression shall _not_ go unpunished. You must be dealt with."

Constans rose his head yet again. "And what shall you do with me?" he defiantly asked, "Kill me?"

Varus Vantinius was on the verge of replying "Yes", but before he did, his eyes shifted toward me. "No," he replied, then pointed directly toward me. _"Nerevar_ will."

I froze. "Me?!" I asked.

"Yes, Nerevar, _you_. He speaks heresy against you. He is solely responsible for denying you access into my castle. He deserves to die."

"I- I do not know if I can," I said.

"Do it now!" he demanded.

Standing before Constans, I took Blunderbuss off my back. Pressing the butt of the gun firmly against my shoulder, I aimed the gun's sights toward his lowered head. I pressed my index finger against the trigger... and slowly began to squeeze... tighter and tighter...

But I released the squeeze of the trigger and lowered the barrel of the gun. "I can not do it," I said. "It would not be right."

"I gave you an order, Nerevar," said Varus Vantinius. "Kill him!"

"No!" I said. "If I am to kill him in such a manner, it would be no better than _murder._"

"Than what do you suggest, Nerevar? Constans must be killed for his transgressions."

"Hang him from the gallows if you must," I said, "but I will not have the first shot of Blunderbuss be one of murder."

Varus Vantinius gave a relenting sigh. "Very well, Nerevar." He called out to the guards. "Hold him within a cell in the dungeon until tomorrow. He shall be executed at noon tomorrow in the market district. He shall be an example for _all_, to show what happens to traitors of the Empire." Constans was then lifted off his knees and the guards escorted him from the throne room.

As I strapped Blunderbuss back onto my back, Varus Vantinius approached.

"Nerevar," he said, "while I do not approve of you disrespecting my orders... I must admit, what you did was _quite_ noble."

"Thank you," I replied.

"Oh, Nerevar, through all the commotion, I had nearly forgot... tonight, I am holding a little soiree in the ballroom of Castle Ebonheart. All of Vvardenfell's high society will attend and, perhaps, would you and your friends care to attend as well?"

I did not even need the spoken approval of the others to know _their_ answer. "We would be honored to attend," I replied.

"Excellent. The party starts at the stroke of six. In the meanwhile, I shall have my servants prepare you for the party. Meet me here, in the throne room, when you are all ready to head over to the ballroom.

Do _not_ be late."

o0o

I sat in a wooden chair with red velvet cushioning. I stared at the ground in front of me... waiting. The party started about thirty minutes ago and I waited for Hui and Zela to be done with their dressing. I, on the other hand, decided to go as I always looked: white robe... but with a slight inclusion. A seamstress made for me a long, white cape with a scarlet lining that sat broad upon my soldiers. I rather liked the new clothing article, so much so that I considered wearing from here on out. Looking toward the wall before me, three wooden doors stood.

A moment later, Hui walked out from the door on the left. He was wore a green mage robe (save the hat), but as opposed to the one he _normally_ wore, _this_ robe was made of a beautiful deep green silk that shinned in the torch light. I got up from my chair, suprised to see Hui so well dressed.

"Hui," I said, "you look... _nice_, for a change."

He smiled. "I apologize that I took so long," he said. "It seems that those Imperial outfitters have _never_ made clothing for an Argonian."

"Had they no clue?" I asked.

"Not a one... That is, until they were intelligent enough to finally summon an _Argonian_ seamstress to do the fitting. After that, it took but mere moments.

What of you? You are still going to wear the same white clothing?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Do you not ever get bored of wearing the same thing day after day?"

"_You_ do not seem to mind."

"Yes, but a mage is _required_ to were their robes wherever they may go, to better identify them as such."

"Well, since _that_ is your reasoning, _my_ clothing will better identify me as _Nerevar_."

Hui laughed. "Clever," he commented.

A second later, Zela appeared behind the door on the far right. She was beautiful, dressed in a royal purple kimono-like robe, her long, raven hair tied neatly in a bun. She reminded me of the geisha (save the white face paint.)

"You look... beautiful, Zela," I said.

She smiled, then taking me by the left arm. "And you look... the same," she replied.

Hui laughed. "I told him the exact same thing," he said.

Before I could retort, The Knight of the Imperial Dragon appeared from the middle door, wearing the exact same royal garb from earlier that day. With a smile on his face, he said, "Let us head off to the party, shall we?"

"Wait," I said. "What of Miles? Will he not attend?"

"Unfortunately," said Varus Vantinius, "Miles has seemed to fallen upon a sudden illness, and he insists he not attend."

I turned to Zela and Hui. "That seems very ironic, do you not think so?" I asked. "Miles has complained of his living conditions the entire time during our travel, and now that he is _finally_ among his kind, he has fallen ill."

Perhaps it is," said Hui, "but perhaps Miles has _truly_ fallen ill. In any case, we should head to the ballroom now."

With that, we followed Varus Vantinius down the long hallway to the ballroom, portraits of all the past Knights of the Imperial Dragons were hung upon the wall to our right. As we neared closer and closer to the end, the sound of music and conversation grew ever louder. Finally reaching the end of the corridor, a set of wooden double doors laid before us with a lone guard standing watch. Seeing the Knight of the Imperial Dragon arrive, he quickly bowed, then entered the room before us. A second after he entered, the sounds of conversation and music stopped completely. I could hear the guard announcing from the other side.

"Ladies and gentleman," he said, "may I present for you three _honored _guests of the Knight of the Imperial Dragon himself: Zaden the White, Nerevar Incarnate, his fiancee Zela of the Thieves Guild, and Hui, wizard of The Mages Guild."

"Fiancee?" I said out loud. "Apparently, we are to be married, Zela," I joked.

"So it would seem," Zela replied with a laugh.

The doors swung open and the three of us entered the room, greeted by the modest clapping of the other guests.

The room was a great ballroom, three grand crystal chandeliers hung above all. Standing at the top of the wide stairwell, the three of us looked down upon the entire soiree: against the left wall was a long table of appetizers. To the right, a small band played calming music. Over one hundred were in attendence, all _very_ well dressed, all nobles or entrepreneurs of some sort.

I escorted Zela down the steps, our arms interlocked, Hui following close. Upon reaching the bottom, we were immediately approached by a Khajiit butler, asking,"Is there anything I may bring you, Sir and Madame?"

I was not expecting such treatment, but quickly took advantage of it. "A glass of single-malt scotch," I replied. While Hui ordered the same, Zela ordered herself a glass of champagne. The Khajiit left at once, and in what seemed no time at all, came back with our drinks.

Suddenly, the music stopped playing once again and the crowd went silent. All eyes once again fell upon the top of the grand stairwell. The guard reemerged from the other side of the doors.

"Ladies and gentleman," he repeated, "the guest of honor has arrived. May I present to you... Knight of The Imperial Dragon himself... Varus Vantinius."

A moment later, Varus Vantinius appeared from behind the double doors. Everyone gave modest applause as he walked slowly down the red carpeted stairwell. Upon reaching the bottom, nearly everyone at the social event approached him for the opportunity to shake his hand. Hui, Zela, and I, however, stood back and allowed the commotion to unfold.

Once everyone had their time with Varus, he waved us over. When we met up with him, he introduced me to a few people: a man and two women, all of them Imperials, all of them extremely well dressed.

As I went down the line, shaking everyone's hands, Varus introduced them to me. "This," he said, "is master Lazuli, diplomat of The East Empire Company. The two woman with him are his... escorts."

More like well dressed prostitutes who saw nothing past his wallet. "I see," I replied. "Nice to meet you."

Lazuli reached out and shook my hand. "Good to meet you... Zaden, was it?" I nodded. "Yes, well, might I ask what do you do for a living?"

Apparently, he knew _nothing_ of modesty.

"Well," I replied, "I was a member of The Fighters Guild for my first few months in Vvardenfell, but now, I am Nerevar," I joked. I beganm to laugh at my joke, only to stop when I quickly noticed the blank and confused faces of Lazuli and his 'friends.'

"Excuse me," he said, 'but what is meant by 'Nerevar?' Is that a sort of title?"

Great, he was culturally _ignorant_ as well. "I am the religious icon of The Tribunal Temple I replied, "prophesied to rid Vvardenfell of the grip of Dagoth Ur."

Again, I was met by confused looks.

"I am the reincarnation of the legendary hero Nerevar."

"Who is Nerevar?" he asked. "And who is this 'Dagoth Ur?'"

This was getting me nowhere.

It became obvious to me that these Imperials knew nothing about the Dunmer religion. All they knew was how to be rich.

"Nevermind," I replied back. "The story is _far _too long to repeat, nor do I wish to speak it."

I then excused myself from the group and headed directly to the wet bar.

I needed a drink, especially after that 'intellectual' conversation.

After ordering another glass of scotch, Hui and Zela approached. They said they were about to check out the musicians and asked me if I wished to join them. Gladly accepting their offer, we headed to the opposite wall, where the musicians played. A Dunmer played a grand piano, a Khajiit played harp with his dulled claws, and a duo of Redguards played violins with amazing grace and beauty. All played with such beauty and skill, it nearly brought a tear to my eye.

After a moment, Hui spotted a pair of fellow Argonians and decided to leave us and speak with them. Zela, shortly after Hui left, left to get another drink, leaving me alone to admire the music.

As I stood and watched the band play beautiful music, someone appeared on my right peripheral. A Dunmer with a white cane stood to my right. He wore a robe of shinning, golden silk. He had brown, medium length hair that was oiled and slicked back. In his hand was a tall glass of ice water.

Without looking directly at me, he spoke to me. "Beautiful, is it not?" he asked.

I nodded. "Very," I replied. "They play with such grace and talent."

He paused. "Not that it is any of my business," he said, "but I could not help but overhear the conversation (or lack thereof) you had with the Imperial."

"... Yes. What of it?" I asked.

"Nothing," he replied. "I just noticed the frustration in your voice and... I feel your pain, Nerevar. These Imperials of high society have been so brainwashed by their own religious teachings that the mere _mention_ of another culture's religion is like blasphemy to their ears."

I laughed. "Yes, I suppose... Tell me something, Dunmer. What _do_ Imperials believe in?"

The Dunmer sighed. "They are monotheistic," he replied. "They believe in a one God, the 'Father Almighty', 'creator of Heaven and Nirn.' They also believe in a 'Hell,' where if you live a life of sin and when you die, you are sent to a place deep beneath Nirn's crust, where you will be tortured for all eternity as punishment."

The Dunmer and I burst into laughter at the ridiculous belief. "Do you jest?" I asked. "Do they truly believe such things?"

"Yes, I am afraid they do," he replied. "They do not know the _truth_ like we Dunmer do. In fact, they seem blind to it."

I paused for a second and I thought about what he just said. "We Dunmer?" I asked back.

"Yes, _we_ Dunmer," he replied. "You _are_ Dunmer, are you not?"

"No," I replied, "I am _Imperial_."

"... Oh... I apologize," he said. "I did not know."

"How could you not know? Are you-?"

"Blind?" he interrupted. He then turned and looked me in the eye for the first time, revealing that _his_ eyes had no pupils and were a glazed red color. "Yes, I _am_ blind," he said.

I gasped, and was about to apologize, but he interrupted me before I could. "So let me get this strait," he said, "_you_ are Nerevar Incarnate, the one to lead Vvardenfell to salvation from The Dark Lord, and you are _Imperial?_"

"Yes," I replied. "I hope I did not disappoint you."

He smiled, giving a soft chuckle. "I am not disappointed," he replied, "just merely... suprised. The last Nerevar was Dunmer, and judging by how you reacted to those ignorant Imperials (no offense,) I merely assumed you were Dunmer."

"I understand your thinking," I said. After taking a sip of my brandy, I asked the Dunmer, "What is your name?"

He held out his hand, in preparation for a handshake. "Varon Varvur," he replied. "It is an honor to meet you, Nerevar."

I reached out and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. I am Zaden... but I suppose you probably already knew that."

Just then, Hui and Zela returned.

"Who is this?" asked Zela.

"This is Varon Varvur," I replied.

Zela leaned forward and shook Varon's open hand. As she did, she immediately took notice of his abnormal eyes and asked (rather bluntly) "What is wrong with your eyes?"

He laughed. "I am blind," he replied.

Zela gasped. "Oh, I am sorry," she said. "I did not mean to speak so disrespectfully."

"It is quite all right. I get such comments often." He then turned to me. "And who, Nerevar, is the other person with you?"

How he knew there was another was beyond me, but I quickly replied "Hui." Varon held out his hand and Hui shook it.

Looking to where my voice sounded last, he asked me "What brings Nerevar here among high society?"

"Well," I responded, "I am building a grand army to assault Dagoth Ur's within the GhostGate. I came here because Varus could supply my soldiers with ebony armor. Earlier this day, I convinced him to do just that."

His eyes widened. "Interesting," he remarked. "Is that all you are to do for your soldiers? One can not win a war with armor alone."

"I am meeting with the Grand Master of the Fighters Guild for weapons and The Arch Mage for magic items."

Varon paused for a moment and bowed his head, 'looking' into his glass of ice water. "It sounds like _quite_ the adventure," he said.

He looked sad. "What is wrong, Varon?" I asked him, trying to figure out his sudden disposition.

He remained silent, 'starring' into his drink. Suddenly, he lifted his head, looking directly at me.

"Take me with you," he asked.

Suprised could not adequately describe how I felt. "Excuse me?!" I asked.

"Take. Me. With. You," he replied.

"W- Why do you wish to join us?"

"Do you have _any_ idea what it is like here, Nerevar? I am _constantly_ surrounded by Imperials who _nothing _about the Dunmer, and who are too culturally inept to even _begin_ to figure out my people. I feel like... a dwarf among giants.

And that is not all," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "I have never even left these castle grounds. On few occasions, I have asked, even pleaded to leave, but others only see my handicap and they automatically forbid me to leave the grounds."

He sighed. "I _need_ to experience the world," he said. "I wish to visit the far off lands that I have only heard about through stories, legend, and eyewitness accounts. I wish to experience the thrill of travel, if not by sight, but by sound, touch, taste, smell. I wish to leave this damned place, and I feel that you, Zaden, _Nerevar_, may be the one to do it."

I was hesitant to respond at first, afraid of how he would react. "Well," I finally replied, "I would love to bring you along, but I am not sure we _can_ bring you with us."

He was visibly upset. "Why?" he asked. "If you think my blindness will impede your progress, I assure you, it will not."

"I do not doubt that, friend. I am only hesitant because my party only has two horses, and since they can only carry two at a time, we are currently full with our four person party."

"What are you talking about?" responded Varon. "There are but three of you here now!"

How in Oblivion did he know that? "Our other member has taken ill and is currently in his chambers," I said, "but I assure you, he-"

Suddenly, to my right, I caught from the corner of me eye a figure of _Miles_ walking towards me, an incredible look of angry upon his face.

I turned to him. "Miles," I said, "What is wrong? I thought you had taken ill."

He grabbed me by the wrist, turned my palm up toward the ceiling, and slammed a folded piece of parchment in my hand.

"I am leaving," he announced.

"Leaving?" I asked. "What for?"

"You know why," he replied. "I was nearly _killed_ today, Nerevar! Your crazed plans nearly killed me!"

I became furious in an instant. "You had the same opportunity to oppose the plan like everyone else was offered!" I said. "You could have just as easily spoken up!"

"That is not the point! I am _not_ going to travel with one that could bring upon me and early death!"

"But what of the plan?" I asked. "What of the meetings with the Grand Masters? Have you, in your rage, forgot about that?!"

He tapped on the parchment in my hands. "This," he said, "tells the names of those you need to meet with, along with address of _where_ to meet. Once you have funding from all those listed, sent a letter to the address written in red ink that you have done so. Once sent, the construction of the army shall begin, and, in any luck, should be completed in three months time. Meet at the Ghostgate exactly four months after you sent the letter. The army shall be waiting for you then."

I slipped the parchment into my pocket. "You are a damn coward, Miles" I said.

He smirked. "I would rather be a coward and _alive_ than brave and _dead_," he retorted. With that he turned around and walked away.

That was the last time I ever saw him.

Thank Azura for_ that_.

I looked back to Hui and Zela. Both had looks of shock upon their faces. "Wow," said Zela, "I would have _never_ expected such behavior from Miles."

"Yes," I said, "you and I _both_."

Looking back to Varon, a huge smile stretched across his face. "What are you smiling about?" I asked him.

Varon laughed. "It would appear," he replied, "that you currently have an opening."


	23. Return to Balmora

Chapter 23: Return to Balmora

Hui, Zela, and I spent the night in the royal guest's chambers. It was luxury like one could only dream of. All the bed cloths were made from the finest silk, it felt like sleeping atop clouds. The next morn, we were fed whatever our hearts desired, for the castle chefs gladly cooked whatever we requested.

We left at around noon. Getting dressed, I felt a certain joy in dawning my weapons once again. Meeting Hui, Zela, and Varon in the courtyard, I was surprised to see that Zela still wore the silk clothing from the previous night. Hui, however, had changed back into the heavy mage robes he had always dawned. I decided, much like Zela, to keep my article of clothing: my white cape with the scarlet lining.

With Hui leading Varon through the castle grounds, we four made our way to the stables. The white and black stallions were already waiting for us outside, hitched to a sturdy wooden post. Varus Vantinius waited for us outside the stable and once his eyes met mine, he approached.

"Well," he said, "this looks to be our last goodbyes, Nerevar."

I nodded. "So it would seem," I said in reply. "It was truly a pleasure to spend the night within your castle. I shall never forget your contributions to my cause."

"Oh, before you go," he said, "I wonder if it is possible to ask of you one last thing… to attend the execution of the Master at Arms. It is to be held but a few minutes from now, in the center of the market district. It seems only fitting that you attend, Nerevar."

I sighed. "Very well," I replied, " I shall attend."

With that, Varus Vantinius mounted his own steed, a beautiful paint horse, and led the way through the streets back toward the first district. A large crowd had already formed there in the center of the plaza. Once the Knight of the Imperial Dragon made his appearance, a hush came upon the crowd.

There, in the center of the gathering, a tall wooden stage was constructed. Atop the stage, shackled and on his knees, was the Master at Arms, Constans Palenix. Before him was a large, square block of solid wood, and to his left was a giant of a man, the Executioner, sporting a tall two handed ax.

A scribe (with scroll in hand) then walked onto the stage, opened his scroll and made an announcement not only to Constans, but to the crowd of onlookers.

"Constans Palenix," he announced. "You have been formally charged with the unlawful act of treachery against our Knight of the Imperial Dragon. As such, you have been given the punishment of death, and are to be decapitated." He rolled the scroll back up. "Have you any last words?" he asked.

Constans slowly lifted his head and his looked upon the onlookers with great anger.

"I regret nothing I have done," he said. "If ever given the chance to relive my decisions, I would do exactly as I did." Then, as his eyes scanned the crowd, his eyes fell upon me, who stuck out above the crowd like a sore thumb atop my horse.

"Long live The Empire!" he announced.

With that last declaration, his head was lowered onto the wooden block. The Executioner raised his ax high above his head for all to see. Then, with all the strength in his arms, he threw the blade of the ax upon the neck of Constans, separating it from the rest of his body.

o0o

As we left Ebonheart behind us, traveling the path North, I reached into my pocket and retrieved the parchment Miles gave me the previous night. Looking it over, I became very pleased.

"This is wonderful," I announced out loud.

"What is it?" asked Zela from behind me.

"According to the parchment," I said, "the head of the Fighter's Guild lives in Balmora!"

"Really? That is fantastic! Finally, we can return home. It has been half a year since we left. It will feel good to tread familiar grounds."

"Yes," I said, "it would be great to return to something _familiar_ for a change." Looking behind us, Hui and Varon were a few lengths back, talking about something. I motioned Hui to come over and he approached to my right.

"Varon," I said, "how do you feel so far?"

"I feel incredible!" replied Varon. "For all my life, I have been imprisoned within that _jail_ of a castle. Now that I am free and experiencing Vvardenfell first hand, I feel so…"

"Refreshed?" I asked.

"Exactly!" said Varon. "It is like I am truly living for the first time! All these sounds, feelings that have been denied from me for all my life… it is almost overwhelming."

"Well I am glad to see you in such good spirits, Varon," I said.

"Oh, speaking of 'refreshed,' could it be possible that I borrow your skin of water?" he asked. "Mine has run dry."

Reaching into my bag, I retrieved a skin of water. Then, without thinking, I tossed the skin underhand to Varon. I was just about to warn him to duck, but before I did, Varon had already caught the pouch in mid air, uncorked the top, and began to drink from it.

My jaw dropped, along with Zela and Hui's. "How in Oblivion did you do that?!" I asked Varon in disbelief.

Varon gave a confused look. "Do what?" he asked.

"You caught that skin of water in mid air!" I said. "How could you do such a thing with your vision being what it is?"

Varon suddenly looked embarrassed. "Oh... right," he said. "Well, you see I-" He stopped mid sentence. He sat up strait as a board, his head began to look rapidly from left to right, as if actually searching for something.

"Varon, what is wrong?" I asked.

"Stop the horses," he quickly commanded.

"Excuse me?"

"Stop the horses!" he repeated.

Following his orders, Hui and I pulled back on the reins of our horses, causing them to come to a complete stop. Then, without the assistance from anyone of us or the use of his cane, Varon hopped off the saddle of Hui's horse and landed flat upon his feet. He then bent down and pressed his right hand against the ground.

"Varon, what are you doing?" I asked.

"Be quiet," he replied, keeping his hand against the ground, silent, concentrating, as if listening. Then, he finally spoke. "Something approaches from the East," he said. "Something big... two of them... and _fast_."

How he was able to confidently make such a claim was beyond comprehension, but I could not be bothered figuring it out now. Dismounting my horse, slinging Blunderbuss from my back, and flipping the safety off, I stood by Varon's side, facing East. Hui got off his horse as well, standing at ready to my right.

Varon then pointed to the crest of the hill about fifty yards before us. "There," said Varon, " they should come over the ridge in no more then a few seconds." I began to count off the seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Fo-

Before "four" could be counted off, two monstrous trolls came charging over the crest of the hill. They were Ogrims, daedric trolls, known to be the servants of Daedric Lord Malacath. They shared green skin and glutinous figures, bull-like horns atop their head, and deep orange eyes. One of the Ogrims was twice the size of the other, signifying that it was an Ogrim Titan. The two came charging Hui, Varon, and I. Each step sent shock waves through our bodies.

As soon as the lesser Ogrim came within firing range, I fired a shell into the lumbering beast's face. It brought its hand over its face and halted dead in its tracks, it screamed in pain as blood trickled onto the ground below. With a quick pull back and forth of the fore stock, another shell was cocked into the chamber. Unfortunately, the second Ogrim, the Ogrim Titan had already got within striking distance and attempted to charge us like a enraged bull. At the last possible moment, the three of us sidestepped and dodged the Ogrim as it went stumbling past.

While that Ogrim was still stumbling to a stop, I turned my concentrated back on the first Orgim, who still roared in pain. With Blunderbuss clutched firmly in my hands, I opened fire upon the beast, pumping round after round after round into its stomach. After what seemed to be twelve rounds, the skin of the Ogrim's stomach was ripped and weakened to the point where it finally failed to hold. The stomach opened and a waterfall of blood flowed from the troll's obese body, organs spilled upon the ground. The Ogrim made a final pained roar and then fell forward, its face landing in the pool of his own blood.

Turning around, the Ogrim Titan had finally regained its footing and had made an about turn. Its eyes fell upon the mutilated body of its comrade and his heart filled with rage. It let out a loud roar and began a second charge. I took aim toward the Ogrim Titan's leg and fired a shot in its knee cap. That did nothing to hinder his charge.

Suddenly, I felt something grab my sword from behind. Before I could see who it was, Varon went charging toward the Ogrim Titan, with my daedric longsword in hand. The Ogrim rose its hand and made a sideways swipe at Varon, its claws slicing through the air, but Varon ducked at the last moment and the claws went streaking above his head. Varon then swung the sword at its ankles, cutting deep and slicing tendons and nerves. The troll, now unable to use its legs, fell forward, flat upon its fat stomach. Varon then scaled the Titan's body and stood atop the Titan's back. With the sword held tight in his hand, he thrusted the blade into the Ogrim's skull, penetrating the brain and killing it instantly.

I stood back in amazement, unsure whether what I witnessed was real or not, unsure if I was dreaming or not. Varon released the black and red blade from the Ogrim's head and in one downward swipe through the air, the blood that covered the blade was cleaned off. Varon then approached me, placing the blade in my open hands. He was silent.

"Varon," I said, my mind bewildered, "how were you able to do all that?"

"I suppose," he replied, "I have explaining to do."

o0o

We rode North for another two miles. None of us spoke a single word the entire way. At about four hours after noon, we stopped by the edge of a lake, Lake Amaya. As our horses rested, taking long drinks from the clean, crisp water of the lake, Hui, Zela, Varon, and I had business to discuss. Sitting in a patch of low grass, we discussed the events that occurred earlier that day.

I began the conversation. "Varon," I said, "there is much explanation that must be done on your part. You speak that you are blind, and yet you were able to slay an Ogrim Titan (with skill and grace, I might add.)"

Varon took a sip from his skin of water. "Although I have been visually blind for as far back as I can remember, I have never had difficulties seeing."

"What do you mean?" asked Zela, who sat to my right. "How can one see when one is blinded

"It is hard to explain," said Varon. "I do not see colors like you do, the light reflecting off surfaces. I see, rather… currents, and voids. I see… the flowing of light through all objects and living things. I do not know what exactly I see."

I looked toward Hui. He gave a very interested look.

What is it, Hui?" I asked.

"I think I can explain what you are seeing, Varon," said Hui. "You see, for the most part, there are two types of people in this world: those born with the gift of mage, and those born without. However, through my studies, I have come upon multiple accounts of those who can actually see the currents of mana. Perhaps Varon can see the currents and, in doing so, granted him a sort of sight.

Tell me, Varon, what exactly do you see about you?"

Varon slowly scanned his head from left to right like a bird of prey. "I see the mana flowing, like rivers of light, through all the living and non-living things about me. I see great rapids of mana below the grounds surface. I see the mana flow up the roots of the trees and through the trunk. In the sky above, I see nothing, for mana does not flow through the air.

When I look upon you, Zaden and Hui, those who are able to wield and harness mana's power, I see a bright silhouette of light. However, when I look upon you, Zela, I see a silhouette of darkness, where the mana is absent."

Zela interjected. "Varon," she said, "when did you discover your gift?"

He thought for brief moment. "When I was about ten years of age. I remember the exact moment: I was with a few of my friends in the court yard of Castle Ebonheart. We were about to play a game of hide and seek. I wished to play so bad. I begged them to let me play, but they told me I could not. So, they sat me atop a bench and they played without me. I was so angry. I could never play with the children the way everyone else could. Sitting upon the bench, listening to the other children laugh and play, my heart filled with both hate and sorrow.

Then, in the mist of my anguish… a miracle occurred: a person appeared before me, a woman. I do not know much of beauty, but if I were to guess, she was perfectly beautiful. In a pleasing voice, she spoke to me.

'Why do you weep so, Varon Varvur?' she asked.

'I am blinded,' I replied. 'I wish to look upon the world about me!'

The woman approached me closer and looked deep into my eyes. 'Ask,' she said, 'and ye shall receive.'

Then, she placed her index and middle finger upon my forehead and instantly, I felt an incredible surge of energy through my body. Once the surge faded and she vanished, I was able to see as I explained earlier. I saw everything: the trees, the castle walls, and even those who hided in their game.

Needless to say, they were quite surprised to see that I, the blinded one, found them.

"Tell me something," I interrupted. "How good is your sight."

He smiled. "You see that rock next to you?" he asked. I looked to my right and, sure enough, there was a rock about the size of my fist. "I wish you to throw it at me," said Varon

I did what he said. Picking up the rock, I aimed directly toward his head and lightly tossed the rock at him. With great speed, Varon caught the rock in mid air and threw it back toward me, missing my head by less than an inch.

"You missed," I said with a smile.

Varon smiled. "I was not trying to hit you, Zaden. Now, back to my story…

I went running to my parents without any assistance for the first time ever, to tell them of my new gift. Meeting them in the lounge, I told them everything and how I could finally see. They heard not a word. They were too preoccupied wondering 'Where is your walking assistant?' and 'Why was I alone?' I tried to explain to them further, but they did not listen.

This continued through all my life: I would tell people of my gift and no one would believe me. I denied any and all assistance they gave, claiming that I could do things on my own. But eventually, I gave in, and I allowed people to treat me like a child once again.

But then... without warning, the help just seemed to... stop. At first, I was elated. I was able to do things on my own for a change, and that was an incredible feeling... for a while. Then, I began to come to the realization that I was being forgotten within my own home. My cries for help came upon deaf ears, and I became a burden to everyone around me. Then... you showed, Nerevar, and you released me from that hell hole. Thank you."

I smiled. "No problem," I replied.

Hui stood up. "Sorry to break up this Confession Circle," he said, "but if we are to reach Balmora by nightfall, we need to get moving now."

I nodded my head. "Very well," I said, "let us head off."

We got and headed to the horses. Before i got on, I got the deadric long sword, which I had attached to Apoc's saddle, and walked over to hui with it. "Here," I said, handing the sword to him, "this is for you. I'm gonna the silver katana you have now to Varon, seeing as he can hold his own." He took the katana off his back and put the deadric sword on.

Giving the silver katana to Varon, a confused look appeared on his face. 'Wait a minute," he said, "how come he gets the deadric sword and I only get the silver one?"

"Your new to the group," I said. "Hui and Zela have been with me sense practically the beginning, so they earned to wield deadric weapons, but I'll tell you what, the next time I see a higher quality weapon, I get you it."

With that, we mounted our horses and headed North toward Balmora. The terrain was flat, barely changing in elevation throughout the entire ride. Not a cloud was in the sky, a cool breeze blew in from the mountains up North. After riding for about ten miles, we finally reached Balmora's outer limits. We could see the smoke of chimneys over the ridge of one last hill. Reaching the top of said hill, the entire view of the city was spread before us. It was even more beautiful then I remembered.

Trotting through the center of the city atop our stallions, our presence was well known. The people stopped their jobs, came running out of their homes, to see me, the Savior of Morrowind. Crossing The River Odai, I could see my house. I was just as I remembered it… but with a slight alteration to its exterior. On every corner of the house, a bright paper lantern was placed. Heading inside, I wondered what else was different.

As it turned turned out, a lot was changed.

While the furniture placement remained the same, they were replaced with furniture of the highest quality wood: oak, mahogany, and redwood. The banners that hung across the walls were now of red silk, the Moon and Star insignia sewn with golden thread. Heading downstairs and taking a peak into the liquor cellar, I saw that it was stocked to the ceiling with expensive and rare alcohol. Zela and I then rushed upstairs to check on the bedroom. The twin bed was replaced with a king sized bed, complete with banisters and red silk curtains. Jumping on the mattress, I literally sunk into it. It was full of goose down and the mattress pad, sheets, and comforter was made of blue silk.

Just then, I heard Hui's voice calling from the foot of the stairs. "Hey," he called up, "come down here! I found something."

Heading down the stairwell, Hui was holding a note. "I found this on the dinning room table," he said.

"What does it say?" asked Zela.

Hui then began to read the note off.

Zaden,

News of your success has spread like wildfire across the city of Balmora. You can imagine my surprise when I heard stories of an Imperial, clad in white, was the reincarnation of Nerevar, and was leading a pilgrimage of followers across the island of Vvardenfell. In celebration of your success, we decided to give you a gift, from all of us at The Fighter's Guild.

As you might already know, we replaced all the furniture with that of high quality. Downstairs, a fully stocked cellar awaits you. In the pantry is a feast suitable for a king. Upstairs, on the roof, banisters have been fixed into place and a canopy spread atop them, creating a place of relaxation.

This was a labor of love on our part, Zaden, so there is no need for you to repay us. Not many famous individuals have come out of our sect of The Fighters Guild in a long time, so as you can imagine, morale has been incredibly high. The number of members we currently have has grown greatly, and everyone here is motivated to become the next Nerevar. You joining our sect was the best thing that has ever happened for us, and for that, we thank you.

Love,

Eydis Fire-Eye

P.S.: As far as the funding goes, for your "army," meet me at the guild compound any time you wish.

o0o

That night was a night for celebration. Hui, Zela, and I broke into the 'liquor cellar' and opened the finest rums, brandies, whiskeys, and scotches we could find. All the while, we tried to get Varon to join us. He refused to participate... at first. However, by the time nightfall hit, Varon was just as drunk as the rest of us.

By midnight, Zela and Varon were exhausted by the day's events, so they retired early: Zela heading upstairs to the new bed and Varon sleeping on a plush couch in the downstairs lounge. I, however, was still wide awake, so I headed to the roof top. The canopy fluttered above me in the breeze. Setting a chair along the edge of the roof, I looked East toward the rest of Balmora, toward the other side of The River Odai. Looking toward the stars, the red and white moons shone bright, both waxing.

Hui came through the hatch from below as well. With a glass of scotch in hand, he pulled up a chair to my right and took a seat.

"Nice night," he said.

"Beautiful," I replied. "This return to Balmora was just what I needed. I feel so..."

"Rejuvenated?" Hui asked.

"-and I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders," I continued. "I feel as though I can finally relax."

Hui took a sip from his glass. "You do realize that it is not over yet. You still got two Grand Masters to meet with."

I sighed. "I know, I know… I am still ready to face them regardless. I have no doubts, my mind is clear, and my path set in stone."

Hui smiled. "Well I am glad for you," he said.

We both sat silent, looking down at the city, watching the few people who were still out and about. Then, Hui broke the silence.

"May I ask you something personal?" Hui said.

"Sure," I replied, still looking down upon the city.

"Do you love Zela?" Hui asked.

"Of course!" I replied. "With all my heart I love her. Why do you ask?"

"Well... do you ever get the feeling that you are attracted to the opposite sex because... you are expected to?"

What?!

"It is just," he continued, "my attractions have never drifted toward the opposite sex. No matter how hard I try, I can never picture myself living out the rest of my life with a woman by my side. Instead, I have always saw myself... with another man."

"Hui," I said, "are you saying that you are… a homosexual?"

Hui gave a slight nod of the head. "Do you think less of me now?" He asked.

I smiled. "Not in the least," I replied. "In fact, I find it admirable that you can express your soul to me like this. I do not care that you are a homosexual... as long as you do not proposition me."

Hui burst into laughter. "Do not worry about that, Zaden" he said. "If I did, I am fairly sure Zela would kill me in my sleep!"

We both laughed, downing what was left in our glasses. Taking one last look at the moons, I asked Hui "Can I ask you a personal question, Hui?"

Hui replied "Absolutly."

"Do you fancy Varon?"

"... Actually, yes."

"Is he a homosexual as well?" I asked

"I shall find out soon enough," Hui replied.


	24. A Fight For Funding

Chapter 24: A Fight for Funding

The next morning, after a filling breakfast, we mounted our horses and rode to the Eastern side of the River Odai. Again, the world about us seemed to stop as we strode near. Everyone seemed to stop whatever they were doing for the chance to look upon me. Riding through the streets, the memories of Balmora came flooding back. Looking to my left, I saw in the distance the pub, the Eight Plates, where Zela and I had our first date.

Tying our horses to a hitching post in front of the guild, the four of us headed inside. It was an amazing sight. At least four hundred people, over four times the amount when I was in the guild, populated the dining hall, laughing, drinking, and feasting. Suddenly, when I entered the hall, all the commotion seemed to come to a complete stop. All eyes seemed to fall upon me. They recognized who I was… but none of them were completely sure. I had to assure them. Holding up my arms, I yelled out to the crowd "I have returned, my brothers!"

Their assumptions were correct. Everyone jumped from their seats and crowded around us. It was a strange feeling: all those who treated me with such hostility now regarded me with praise and glory.

Suddenly, everyone demanded a story, a recap of my journeys. I was happy to tell it. Pulling up a chair, I sat down and began to retell my story, starting from when the horde of bandits attacked the silt strider. I recapped everything: the beginning of The Pilgrimage, the retaking of Molag Mar, the funeral, the killing of many Cliff Racers, the ash storm over the Dwemer bridge, the assassin at The Tree of Dawn, meeting with Azura, and the meeting with The Knight of The Imperial Dragon. I even gave demonstrations on the weapons I received along my journeys.

As soon as I finished my account, someone appeared from The Guild Master's quarters. It was Eydis Fire-Eye, clad in silverfish Orcish armor, an armor based off the designs of the ancient samurais. Her long, flaming red hair draped across the shoulder paldrons, an ebony claymore sheathed upon her back.

I sat up from my chair. "Eydis!" I said, my voice filled with excitement, "it is so great to see you again!"

She smiled, and spoke in a joking manner. "So the great Zaden the White has decided to grace our presence."

I laughed. "You knew I was coming, did you?" I asked.

"That I did," she replied, "but enough with formalities... let us get down to business at hand. I know why your here, Zaden. I know of your story, so do not bother repeating it. I would be happy to fund your excursion into the confines of the Ghostgate... but first, you must prove to me your worth."

"How so?" I asked.

She then unsheathed the black claymore from her back. "We are going to duel," she declared. The crowd let out a thunderous applause. "Meet me in the sparing ring atop the roof in fifteen minutes... There, we shall see how worthy you are."

000

The roof of the Fighters Guild building, a place I have never witnessed before, was grand, measuring fifty by fifty feet. In the center, a thirty foot diameter ring was constructed. Eydis and I stood outside the ring on opposite sides. Nearly all in the guild attended the duel, crowding around the ring, ready to watch the duel commence. Since this was a sword duel, I stripped myself of all my guns and ammunition.

I called out to Eydis across the ring. "Where be the practice weapons?" I asked.

She shook her head. 'No practice," she replied. "This shall be a true duel. We use our own weapons."

"But my sword, made from daedric metal, can cut through not only your sword, but your armor as well. I do not wish to hurt you!"

"Do not worry," she said. "You will not hurt me, for you will not be able to hit me." With that, she stepped into the ring.

Unsheathing my daedric sword and stripping myself of my hooded cap, I stepped into the ring as well. Standing opposite of each other, we assumed our own fighting stances: I held my sword with one hand, while she held the heavy, ebony claymore with both hands. Outside the ring, Hui stood atop a wooden crate, using it as a makeshift platform. Holding his hands high above his head, the crowd went silent.

"Listen up," yelled Hui, " there is but one rule to this duel: there are no rules! For the funding of the Fighters Guild, the duel shall now commence."

"Ready!"

I gripped my sword tight, starring Eydis strait in the eyes.

"Steady!"

"Fight!"

I made the first move. Charging forward, I raised the sword high above my head and swung downward in a chopping motion. Eydis maneuvered the claymore in-between herself and my sword, blocking my attack completely. She returned the attack with the jab of her elbow into my stomach. The power and strength of the blow caused me to stumble back a couple of steps.

Suddenly, she went on the offensive, and began to swing her heavy sword wildly at me. Blocking every swing she made at me, I became amazed at her fighting abilities. With her strength, speed, and dexterity, she wielded the heavy, two handed claymore as quickly as one would handle a one handed sword. She swung at me again and again and again, pushing me back step by step. When my right heel fell upon the wooden edge of the ring, I realized that I if I had any chance to win this duel, I needed to take the offensive now.

Taking another swing at me, I successfully blocked it, then delivered a powerful kick to her chest, causing her to stumble backwards into the center of the ring. Taking the opportunity to strike, I charged once more, this time making a sweeping strike across to the left. Not having time to block with her sword, she grabbed the blade with her left hand. Although her hand was left uncut, protected from her metal gauntlet, the metal was left crushed, and she immediately took off the gauntlet, tossing outside the ring.

I laughed. "Be careful," I said "At this rate, you will lose all your armor. You do not want to fight in the nude, do you?"

She grinned. "Do not worry," she replied. "It will not come to that."

"And why not?" I asked.

"For you will be defeated!" She then delivered a powerful kick to my chest, knocking me flat upon my back. She then grasped the sword in both hands like a dagger, holding it high above me, ready to pin me to the roof.

Rolling out of the way at the last moment, the sword sunk deep into the roof, becoming a permanent fixture. Jumping to my feet, I swung at the blade, using all the strength in my body. The daedric blade struck the ebony claymore, cutting clean through at its hilt. Shocked, Eydis jumped back, dropping what was left in her hands: the handle. I raised the sword high above my head, holding it with both hands, and swung it toward her defenseless head... stopping it a mere inch above it.

The duel was done. She smiled. Taking a step back, she admitted defeat. "Excellent work," she said, "you have bested me... You win."

Hui, who still stood atop the crate, raised his hands above his head once again. "The duel is over," he announced. "Nerevar is the winner!"

The guild erupted in thunderous applause, rushing into the center of the ring. Each member of the guild congratulated me with their own special ways: some gave smacks across the back, some chanted "Nerevar! Nerevar!". Once the crown seemed to disperse a bit, Zela ran over to me, and we shared a passionate kiss atop the roof, the crowd still celebrating my victory.

The sun was now setting in the West, hiding behind the distant mountain range. The stars appeared bright above our heads, and the red and white moons were rising in the South. The Guild Master met Hui, Varon, Zela, and I in front of our house that night. I had all my weapons returned to me after the duel.

That was quite the duel," said Eydis to me, "and you really surprised everyone at the end."

"Thank you," I replied. "You surprised me as well."

"You are one hell of a fighter, Zaden. I am proud to have you a part of our Guild. Now as far as your funding goes, explain exactly what you need from me."

"I need made three hundred long swords for my troops," I replied. "If you can make contact with the Imperial Legion, I am sure they would be glad to lend ebony metal for their construction."

She nodded. "Very well," she said. "Consider it done… As I said before, you have brought great honor to the Fighters Guild here in Balmora... and if it is ok with your fiancée... I would like to further thank you in a… certain way."

"How is that?" I asked.

Eydis blushed. "With a kiss," she said softly, "with her permission, of course.

I turned to Zela for approval. She smiled back and gave an approving nod. With that, Eydis approached with a step forward, leaned in, her eyes closed, and gave a long, soft kiss on my lips. The kiss held for a full ten seconds. Breaking from the kiss, she looked almost embarrassed. "Well," she finally spoke, "I must be heading back. The guild will not run itself, after all."

"Farewell," I said with a bow, "until next time."

With that, Eydis Fire-Eye turned and walked away, crossing the bridge that spanned The River Odai, heading back to the Western part of the city.

Zela walked up behind me, giving me a hug from behind. "Now, but one obstacle stands in your path, my love."

"Yes," I said, "but I wonder if my next encounter will go as well as the others."


	25. ArchMage

Chapter 25: Arch-Mage

We woke up early the next morn, feeling refreshed and ready to take this new day. Cooking up a huge breakfast, we all headed upstairs and ate atop the roof, a canvas canopy above us. There was costal lobster and eggs, sautéed with onions, red and green peppers, and drizzled with hot sauce. There was a silver platter of toast, each slice buttered perfectly. Thanks to the Fighters Guild, having such a breakfast every morn was a very real possibility.

After sharing a quiet breakfast together, I decided to bring up the next step in my journey. "Sorry to bring this up," I said, "but I feel as if I need to ask about the Arch Mage." I turned to Hui. "Hui, you are part of the Mages Guild. Do you know anything of the Arch-Mage."

Hui, who just downed what remained in his coffee mug, replied, "Yes, I do. His name is Qorwynn. He is a Altmer he lives in the Southwestern corner Vvardenfell. His house is a tribute to ancient oriental culture. Build over a wide river, he lives there in solitude... with his many maids and servants."

I laughed. "I see," I said. "How far far of a ride is it?"

"Oh not far at all," Hui replied. "An hour or so atop our horses should be quite enough."

"Excellent," I said, "we shall set off at noon."

o0o

After breakfast, and a quick rest, we mounted our horses and began to ride South out of Balmora. Following the Odai River, we traveled through a small valley. To our left, on the other side of the hills was a small section of The Ashlands, the ground charred black, like a wind of fire swept the entire geography. To our right, the mountains reached far into the sky, leading up to the Odai Plateau, where rumor said that a secret sect of House Dagoth had set up a camp in an old abandoned mining cave.

After about five minutes of trotting by the river, the river dipped down significantly while we maintained the same altitude. A few minutes later, a rope bridge lead across the river, which was now in a twenty foot drop beneath. We were just about to cross when Varon yelled "Stop!"

Pulling back on the reins, the horses came to an abrupt stop. "What is wrong, Varon," I asked him. "You sense something?"

"Yes," he replied, "the bridge… I would not go more than one steed at a time. This bridge is quite old, and I do not think the bridge could handle out combined weight."

"Very well," I replied. "Thank you for the warning. I shall go first." With that, I lead Apoc across the rope bridge. The bridge seemed sound to me, the wooden steeping planks did not seem to buckle in the slightest. Slowly inching over, Zela and I finally reached the safely of the other side.

Now it was Hui's turn to cross. Riding atop of his horse, Kalak, he slowly made his way across the swaying bridge. Just as it was as I crossed, the bridge seemed to withstand the weight… but then, at the bridge's midpoint, the loud snap of breaking rope reverberated across the rocks about us. Suddenly, Varon screamed "Run!" Hui whipped his reins and the horse galloped at full speed the rest of the way. The second the last of the hooved steeped onto solid groung, all the ropes at the opposite end of the bridge snapped, and the bridge fell into the river below with a crash.

I turned to Hui. "So how are to get back?" I asked him.

"Do not fret," replied Hui. "I can cast a simple energy bridge, much like I did to reach Tel Fyr."

We continued south, the sun was slowly rising to its peak in the sky. A symphony of birds sounded from the tree branches above, their beautiful songs seemed soothing to the nerves. Riding alongside a small brook, I could look into the waters at any time and see large fish swimming about. "I shall go fishing later," I thought to myself.

After only a few short hours of riding, we reached the Arch Mage's property: a small island set off from the mainland mainland, separated by a ten foot river. An arched, stone bridge was all that connect the two land masses. Riding across the bridge, as the horses' hooves clopping against the stone, I noticed something different about the trees on this new island. No longer were there green oaks, maples, or tall pines. Instead, there were trees covered with pink and white flowers, their petals raining down upon us like snow. The sun shone through the trees, casting a pinkish hue upon us all.

"Cherry blossoms," said Hui, "for anyone who was wondering. They are an ancient tree, they only grow here, in this particular section of the West Gash region. It isw said that the Arch-Mage holds in his estate the last surviving cherry blossoms. Once these die out, none shall remain."

Riding further through the canopied walkway, we finally reached the home. Built upon a wooden, dock like platform, the house was easily the largest house I had ever seen (next Castle Ebonheart.) The house had a wooden frame, painted a stunning red, its walls made of a paper like substance, held in place with framing that resembled that of a window. The roof was made of copper, aged green, with edges that curled upward.

Hitching the horses to a post, we slowly approached the front door. As soon as we were within a few feet, the door slid open to the right. On the other side was a slender Dunmer woman with long, raven black hair draped across her shoulders, cut square at the bangs. She wore a pink kimono with a white sash, tied in a large bow on her back. She bowed to us with a smile on her face.

"Muthsera," she greated, her voice sweet and soft, almost at a whisper. "My name is Evesa. I shall be your servant today, to tend to your every need as long as you stay in my master's home. Please, enter. But please, remove your shoes when you enter."

Takings a step inside, we took off our shoes and placed them upon a mat to our left. Following Evesa across the hard wood floors, our socks making our footsteps nearly silent, she led us through a series of hallways. Adorning the walls were banners with calligraphy upon them, ancient paintings of legendary samurai warriors, dragons, and wars, and highly stylized katanas and weapondry.

Evesa led us into a small lounge. Against the wall to the left, four cushions were placed in a row, a small, low table set in front of each. "Please," said Evesa, "take a seat."

We each sat upon a cushion: Zela sitting on the cushion on the far left, me sitting to her left, then Hui, and finally Varon on the far right. An instant later, another Dunmer, dressed the exact same way, entered the room, carrying a silver tray with a number of ceramic cups. On each of our tables, she put a tall ceramic cup filled with a clear steaming liquid and what looked like a small ceramic sauce dish.

"I shall inform the master," said Evesa, "of your arrival, Nerevar."

With that, the two servants left,

I nudged Hui. "What is this drink?" I asked him.

"Sake," he replied, "an alcohol made from fermented rice."

"Is it good?" I asked.

"I do not know, Zaden. This will be the first time I have ever had sake. However, I do know that you must drink it slowly. Sake is very potent."

I took the tall cup and poured the sake into the sauce dish. Bringing it to my lips and taking my first sip, I was surprised by its bitter taste. By the time I took my third sip, I became use to it and began to actually enjoy the taste.

After finishing the last of the sake in the cup (which did not seem much at all), Evesa reappeared. "Master Nerevar," she said, "my master will see you now. Also… he has requested the presence of the Argonian wizard. For what reason, I know not. My master is in the other room" and she pointed to the sliding door to my left. Hui and I then got up, declairing that he would go "for protection." We thanked her politely, and entered the next room.

As soon as we entered, I quickly realized that it was not a room at all, but rather a small, outside court yard. There were large cherry blossoms in said yard, carpeting the gray brick floor in pink and white pedals. In the center of this yard was a zen garden: a square section of sand with boulders and rocks peppered within. Lines were lightly pressed into the sand, flowing across the length of the garden, gracefully flowing around the rocks.

There also were small, round, flat rocks that lead toward the center of the garden. In the center of the garden was an even larger flat stone. There, upon said stone, the Arch mage himself sat, wearing a simple tan cloak, grinding herbs in a mortar and pestle.

Hui and I approached edge of the zen garden, watching the Arch-Mage grind the herbs. I was about to take the first step into the garden, using the small, flat stones as steeping stones. But before I did, The Arch Mage yelled at me.

"No!" he said, his voice deep and demanding. "Remove from your person those cudgels, those tools of slaughter. I shall not have them within my garden."

Not wishing to provoke him, I followed his orders. I stripped myself of all my weapons: the daedric sword, Blunderbuss, the two sawed off shotguns on my waist, the six pouches of ammunition on my belt, and the hidden dagger beneath my robe. With all weapons removed, I stepped into the garden, taking a seat on the large, flat rock across from him. Hui stood outside the gardern.

I waited for him to speak. I waited... and waited... Nothing. He simply continued to grind the herbs, acting as if I was not even present. For over five minutes, I waited for him to speak. He spoke not a word. The sound of the rushing river below us could be heard. I waited some more... Nothing.

Finally, _I _spoke. "Good day," I said, trying desperately to get this guy to speak. Still nothing. I tried again. "My name is-"

"Finally, he spoke. "I know who you are," he said. "I know _who _you are, I know what you _want_, and I already _know _what my response is."

"And what is it?" I asked, expecting a yes.

Without looking up from his mortal and pestle, he simply replied, "No."

I was utterly shocked. No one yet had said 'No.'

"What do you mean 'No?'" I asked.

"I mean exactly what I said. I deny you and offerings from me."

"Why? Why will you not give me my funding my army so desperately need?"

The Arch Mage suddenly turned from calm to absolutely furious, as if the word 'Why' was a kill switch. He looked up from the mortle and pestle, staring directly into my eyes, fires raging within his. "Why?" he asked. "Why?! I shall tell you why! Never would I give funding to someone such as _you: _are a barbaric, egotistical, brutish, filthy human!"

"... I do not understand," I said.

"You are a mockery to all that mages strive to achieve. You think that because you have been bestowed the gift of mages, you think yourself a mage. No. True mages are born, not created."

"How did you know of that?" I asked.

"I read the mana currents within your body, your unique mana flow. It is clear that you have blessed by Azura, and that she was responsible for this travesty against all mage kind."

I became enraged. "How dare you refer to my gift in such a manner!" I retorted. "I am as much a mage as you!"

Bad choice of words.

Infuriated from that last statement, the Arch-Mage rose to his feet, his face ever more enraged. "Never say such a statement to me! I am more mage then you can ever hope to achieve! … You are no longer allowed within my home. You must leave at once."

I stood up as well. "I shall not leave until I get what I came here for," I declared.

"Leave now," said the Arch-Mage, "or I will force you out, alive or dead. The choice in that respect is up to you…"

I sighed. There was no convincing this man, not now. I got up and began to leave, feeling not only defeated, but feeling that I failed my troops. As Hui and I, The High Elf continued to rub verbal salt in the wound. "And take with you," he said, "your friends and the whore."

That was the straw that broke my back. I could take the insults directed toward me, but when he insulted _her_, I could not let it stand. "You bastard!" I yelled. Turning around and, channeling a vast amount of mana through my arm, released a column of indescribable pure energy toward the Arch-Mage. Before the blast could strike, however, the Altmer provected a magic shield between himself and the blast. The energies made contact, and the spell was simply absorbed into the shield… leaving the Altmer unharmed.

The Arch-Mage let down the shield... then stood motionless for a few moments, a stone look upon his face. "Shit," I thought to myself, "there is no way he will fund me now. Hell, I do not think I will leave here with my life."

Then, to the surprise of both Hui and I, the High Elf smiled.

He then began to whisper to himself as he slowly walked from stepping stone to steeping stoneI wasn't sure if he was talking to me, or to himself. 'Interesting," he whispered, "very interesting… Such power, and executed so flawlessly. Four elemental powers... in one."

I was still tremendously angry. "What in Oblivion are you muttering?" I asked.

Stopping within an arm's length before me, he lifted up his head, and look upon me with large, yellow eyes. "I am saying," he said, "that I have underestimated you, Nerevar."

"... Excuse me?" I asked.

"You no doubt know of the many types of offensive attacks a mage can wield: flame, frost, lightening, and poison. There is, however, another type: spirit. To wield spirit like you would fire is to wield nothing more or less than pure spiritual energy. Only a select few mortals have been known to wield spirit energy (apart from the gods, of course.)"

His disposition toward me when from nonexistent to full within a few seconds.

"… Though it hurts to admit so… you have surpassed me in skill. With the ability to wield spirit energy, a new world of power has been opened to you. Both offensive and defensive magics can draw from spirit energy. Through training, you may truly become a great wielder of magic and, perhaps, the greatest of all battlemages.

What a simple display of power did for the situation.

"I thank you for the complement," I said, "but I must return to the business at hand: I demand that you provide the funding my men so desperately need. If you still will not provide me with what I need, I shall not leave these grounds. Furthermore, I-"

The Arch-Mage raised his hand. "There shall be no need of such a course of action," he said. "I have decided to recall my previous reply. At first, I thought you not worthy of my aid. Now, I can see that you are more worthy that anyone I have ever met.

I shall supply your army with magic items of my choosing. Believe me when I say that they shall greatly aid them in their battles."

I bowed in gratefulness. "I shall never forget your kindness, Arch-Mage Qorwynn."

o0o

Wasting no time, we rode galloped back to Balmora atop our steeds. When we came upon the fallen bridge, Hui cast the energy bridge across the chasem and we were able to cross. Upon returning home and hitching up the horses, Zela prepared a celebratory feast, for I had finally recieved funding from all the great organizations: the Imperial Legion, the Blades, the Fighters Guild, and now, the Mages Guild. While the feast was being prepared, I went downstairs to the lounge. In the peace and quiet there, I wrote the letter I was instructed to write upon receiving all funding..

Dear Benefactor,

It has been done. I have achieved support of all the organization.. The construction of my army shall now commence.

From,

Zaden the White

With that done, I headed back outside. Putting the letter in the mailbox, I noticed there was another piece of mail. Opening the envelope, inside was a short but clear message, written in green ink.

Zaden,

Meet me in my temple. There is much to discuss.

Vivec


	26. Vivec

Chapter 26: Vivec

Meeting a god can be a life altering experience. For some, looking upon such a superior being puts their lives into perspective. For me, to look upon Azura, one of such perfect beauty, to speak and interact with her, was an experience I will remember for all my days. All my meetings with Azura were unexpected ones, situations that allowed for little time to prepare.

But now, a god has _invited_ me to speak with them.

"Hold on," said Zela, "are you saying that Vivec, _the _Vivec, has asked for your presence?"

"That is correct," I replied, "and judging from the strait forward nature of the letter, it sounds urgent."

"Must we leave now?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "We may leave early the next morn."

That night I could not sleep. My mind raced with thoughts that shared a common theme: Vivec. I had heard many stories of Vivec through my travels: he was the Warrior-Poet, a kind but stern hero. He was known for the acts of heroism and kindness he exhibited wherever he treed. Then, upon the Ghostgate's construction, in order to maintain the great amount of energy needed to keep the shield up, Vivec, along with the rest of the Tribunal gods, went into seclusion, constantly keeping their energy focused upon the Ghostgate.

Not many have laid eyes upon Vivec since then… I wondered what about him, if_anything_, has changed.

o0o

Mounting our horses once again the next morn, we set off South, following the winding dirt roads. Traveling across the flat terrain, we made better time than we expected to. We galloped from Balmora to Vivec in a little under seven hours.

At about an hour after mid-day, we returned to the gates of Vivec, the same place where the Pilgrimage began so many months ago. We allowed the horses catch their breath in a small stable located a brief walk from the gates. Once they were rested and fed, I spoke to two guards, who stood atop the wooden gate, armed with crossbows.

"Open the gate," I yelled.

"Who makes such a command?" one of them yelled back.

"I am Zaden, Nerevar Incarnate. I have come to speak with Vivec."

At first, the guards made no real response, retreating from sight behind the gate. Then, I could hear them calling out to the other guards. "Open the gate" they yelled, and a brief moment later, the gates crept open, revealing a massive city behind it. Strait through the center was a single main street, paved with stone, and stretched out farther than the eye could see. The street was heavily congested, the noise pollution intense. Trying to ride our way through the crowd was a challenge it itself. On each side of the street, at equal intervals, were the great cantons.

Each canton served a purpose. There was the Foreign Quarter Canton, where the heads of political parties were located. There was the Arena Canton, where warriors from all corners of the world met to fight for glory, fame, and septums. There were also three cantons that each held the centers of the three great houses: Redoran, Hlaalu, and Telvanni. Another two acted as temples, where people of the Dunmer or Imperial faith could visit their respective canton and worship their particular gods.

However, where I had to go was somewhere completely different. At the very end of the single street, after thirty minutes of pushing through the crowds, was another temple, unlike the others. Atop a grand staircase, reaching over one hundred feet toward the sky, was a small temple, no bigger than an average sized house. Hitching our horses to a stone post at the foot of the stairwell, a well dressed Dunmer approached me.

"Be you Nerevar?" he asked.

I nodded my head. "That I am," I replied

The Dunmer then reached into his pocket, retrieved a golden key, and placed it in my hands. "This key," he said, "will open the door to Vivec's Temple. He awaits you, Nerevar. Unfortunately, only _you _may enter. Your friends will have to wait outside."

I turned to Hui and Zela. "Sorry," I said, "I am sure you wished to see Vivec as much as _I _did."

"Not _I_," said Zela. "I make no offence toward Vivec, but I would simply be too frightened to be in such a person's presence." Zela then approached and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Besides," she said with a smile, "you may tell me all about it once you return."

With that, I made my way up the steep steps. There were hundreds of steps, going higher and higher. I grew tired and actually was forced to take a rest halfway up. Ten minutes and over a thousand steps later, I finally reached the top. Turning around, I could overlook the entire city street, the thousands of people crowding the street below looked like tiny ants.

Suddenly, I heard a mysterious voice eminating from behind the temple door. "Enter, Nerevar," he said, and nothing else. Walking cautiously to the door, I slowly inserted the gold key into the keyhole. Turning it, I heard the lock open with a loud, metallic chunk and an instant later, the key vanished from my hand. I took a deep breath in and, with trembling legs, entered the temple.

o0o

It was pitch black within the temple, I saw nothing but black. The room was freezing cold, sending chills throughout my spine. Suddenly, torches ignited all about me. One hundred torches, placed all along the edges of the domed room, were ignited all in unison, revealing another person with me in the room.

There, in the center of the room, hovering a few feet off the ground, his legs folded together, was Vivec. He had the body of an elf (characterized by long, pointed ears) and huge, shinning silver eyes. The entire right side of his body, split exactly down the center, was a shinning, gold color, while his entire left side shared the blue pigment of Dunmer skin.

"Come closer," he said, without opening his mouth, speaking to me telepathically. Approaching slowly, I remained silent, completely awestruck that _the _Vivec was before me. I finally spoke.

"You summoned me?" I asked.

"That I did," he replied. "Your journey has been great, Nerevar, a journey to be retold throughout the ages. I have watched your transformation into The Reincarnation of Nerevar. Now, the time has come. The plan to finally defeat Dagoth Ur shall now be revealed.

Dagoth Ur, as you know, derives his unlimited power and immortality from the Dwemer god Akhulakhan, from The Heart of Lorkhan. So, in order to defeat Dagoth Ur, the heart must be destroyed. It can only be destroyed by Tools of Kagrenac, the very same tools that built Akhulakhan. These tools have been scattered throughout the confines of the Ghost Gate and are, to this day, heavily guarded by Dagoth Ur's hellish creatures.

Now… listen, carefully, for this shall only be said once.

In four months, when you enter through The Ghost Gate with your Holy Army, your first task is to obtain the dagger, Keening. It is located in an ancient Dwemer fortress, Odrosal, atop a steep hill. It is heavily guarded by the centurions that still inhabit it.

Once that has been done, you shall head East, around the perimeter of Red Mountian. On the Northern border of the volcano is another Dwemer ruin, Vemynal. Inside, you will find the hammer Sunder.

Once both tools have been obtained, you and your army will head directly South, where a path leads you directly into the core of Red Mountian. This is where the entrance to Dagoth Ur's fortress is located. It is a long and dangerous route, full of powerful demons, deadric creatures, and centurions that will do anything to hinder your progress. When you reach the end, Dagoth Ur awaits.

When you confront him, he will present you a series of questions. While you may answer his questions any way you see fit, maintain your composure, Nerevar, for this is mainly a diversion. Once all questions are answered, he will present you with the first blow. Attack him, and he will flee to the next room, The Chamber of Akhulakhan itself.

There, he will try to kill you. Do not give him the opportunity to do so. Defend yourself as you must, but remain to you plan. Your task is to destroy The Heart. This, Nerevar, is where you have the upper hand. Dagoth Ur is under the impression that you have come to destroy him and not to the Heart, so you have the element of surprise. To destroy the Heart, you must strike it with the hammer Sunder twice and slash it with the dagger Keening five times. Once The Heart is destroyed, Akhulakhan will be destroyed, and Dagoth Ur shall be defenseless.

You know what must be done.

Kill Dagoth Ur, avenge the Dwemer, and save Vvardenfell from his clutches.

Before you leave, Nerevar, I must present you with something, a necessary tool to defeat Dagoth Ur. Understand this, Nerevar: to wield Keening and Sunder, you must wear a sacred artifact, a gauntlet of great power: Wraithguard. In order to grasp the Tools in your hand, Wraithguard must be worn. Otherwise, the Tools will slowly kill you.

Also, this must be known: I must insist against prolonged use of Wraithguard. Wraithguard has been known to cause dependence and outright addiction to it to those who wear it. Therefore, I must advise you to only wear Wraithguard when you absolutely need to.

Now, with all that said, are you ready to have Wraithguard bestowed upon you, Nerevar?"

I nodded my head. "I am," I replied.

Vivec then held his arms out before him. Suddenly, the white silhouette of a gauntlet appeared hovering above his open hands. Then, after Vivec muttered a short incantation, the silhouette materialized into a beautiful golden gauntlet, engraved with many intrigate designs and writings. I took Wraithguard gfrom Vivec's hands and tucked it away in my messanger bag.

I bowed. "Thank you," I said. "Your wisdom is great and I shall follow all you have said."

"Just remember," he said, "in four months be at the entrance of The Ghostgate. The fate of Vvardenfell is now in your hands."


	27. Reunion

Chapter 27: Reunion

Two Months Later…

"Again!" yelled Hui, sitting atop a flat stone, his legs crossed in a meditative position.

It was nearly twilight in the open field, located a short walk from Balmora. The grass was wet with morning dew and not even the birds had awoken.

Taking aim toward the target (in this case, a magic shield that Hui was maintaining), I channeled the mana through my arms, releasing it through the palms of my hands. With a tremendous roar, a column of orange flames, measuring five feet in diameter, went streaking toward the shield. My goal was to break the shield, overpower it to the point where it would simply shatter. Unfortunately, after the flames struck and died out, the shield had not a single crack.

Hui gave an audible sigh. "Damn it, Zaden," he said with annoyance in his voice, "how many times must we do this until we get this right?!"

"I cannot do it," I said. "The shield is simply too strong for my magic to break it. Perhaps if you lowered its intensity-"

"Not a chance," snapped Hui. "If you are going to face the dangers within the Ghostgate, you must be able to take on anything thrown at you. That is why, unless you can break through my most powerful of magic shields with your offensive spells, your training as a mage is _not _complete."

I sighed. "Perfection is your only means of satisfaction, is it, Hui?" I joked.

Hui grinned. "Exactly," he replied, "now do it again."

I, once more, took aim toward the shield. Releasing an even more powerful column of flame from my hands, the shield was engulfed… but when the flames died out, the shield appeared undamaged.

"Damn it!" I exclaimed. "This is hopeless! I am simply not strong enough!"

An angered look came upon Hui's face. "Have my teachings from the grove meant nothing to you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"A mage should not solely rely on the mana reserved in his own body but should, as well, derive his power from the natural mana about him. Zaden… if you can draw from the near endless natural mana, there is no telling what you can achieve as a battlemage.

Try to feel the mana, Zaden, flowing all around us. Focus only on the energy."

I closed my eyes. I drowned out all outside distractions, much like I did in the magic grove. I focused only on feeling out the mana. When all noise and distractions cleared from my mind… I began to feel the presence of a vast amount of mana. Looking down toward my feet, I was able to see through the soil and rock… and saw a vast sea of light and energy… an ocean of mana, flowing right beneath my feet.

I see it, Hui," I said in my trance, "the ocean beneath the surface. How can I harness such a vast amount of mana."

"Become the mana's catalyst," replied Hui. "Much like the humble tree draws its nutrients through its roots, so must you draw the mana through the balls of your feet, up your spine, and out through your hands. Link your mana with the ocean below and you will be able to wield it." I opened my eyes to see that Hui had projected yet another magic shield before me. I sensed that it was even stronger than the first.

Taking Hui tutelage, I released a stream of mana through the balls of my feet, sending it toward the mana beneath the ground. Once they made contact, a great current of mana flowed up the link, through my feet and up my spine, filling my entire body with pure energy. Summoning a ball of fire in the palm of my right hand, the flame was more powerful than before. Rather than orange, the flames were now a deep blue, like the low flame of an oil lantern.

"Very good," said Hui. "That could very well be powerful enough to break the shield. Do it now!"

Intensifying the blue flame and releasing the vast energy through my palms, a great column of blue fire went streaking toward the shield. Upon contact, the shield shattered like a pane of glass. The flames were so hot the ground beneath the shield was turned to glass.

"Excellent work, Zaden," said Hui, still sitting like a monk, "you were successful in breaking the shield."

"Does that mean that my training is complete?" I asked Hui.

"… Not quite," replied Hui, summoning another shield. "Now… break the shield with lightening."

o0o

After training until high noon, Hui and I finally returned to Balmora in good spirits. After breaking the shield with flame, I was successful in doing so with an offensive spell of frost, lightening, _and_ poison. However, I was not successful in replicating the spell I wielded when I attacked the Arch-Mage. But Hui assured me that I would be able to wield such power in due time.

Upon returning home, Hui and I found Varon sitting upon the front steps of the house, sipping on a cup of tea. As we approached, Varon sensed our footsteps, lifted his head from his drink, and turned to our direction.

"You have finally returned," said Varon. "Were you successful in achieving what you set out to accomplish?"

"That we did," said Hui. "Zaden was able to harness the energy of the natural mana, thus making his magic increase tenfold in power."

"Ah," said Varon, "the _natural _mana. To be able to harness such power is something accomplished by few. You should be proud of your achievement."

"That I am," I replied. "Where is Zela?" I asked.

"Oh, she went into the market about thirty minutes ago in search of a few things. She said she would not be long. Oh, and during your absences, the post arrived, yielding a single letter."

"Who is it for?" I asked.

"… Zela," replied Varon.

Normally, for the average couple, such a statement would be a common one. However, this statement struck me rather _odd _for one particular fact: in all the time that Zela and I have been together, in all the time we spent in our new home, she had not received a _single_ piece of mail.

I raced to the mailbox and retrieved said piece of mail. Just as Varon said, the letter was addressed not to I, Hui, or Varon, but to _Zela._ My mind began to race with thoughts of what _possibly _could be contained within. I quickly lifted the letter toward the high noon sun, attempting to read the black ink of the letters.

"Zaden!: yelled Hui, "what in Oblivion are you doing?! That letter is addressed to Zela!"

"But Hui," I said, "are you not curious as to what it says?"

"… Yes, I admit I am… but not to the point that I will trespass into the property of others!"

"But with your magic, you could peak within the envelope and read the lettering _without_ opening it."

"_Never _would I do such a thing, especially toward someone I loved."

"Well if _you_ will not_," _I said, "_I_ will."

Retrieving my silver knife from beneath my robe, I began to slide the blade between the envelope and the flap, slowly separating it in such a way that I could seal it later. If done correctly, I could reseal the envelope and make it look as if untampered.

Unfortunately, I was not even able to get past opening the envelope before Zela's voice sounded from behind me.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

Giving an auditable gasp, I quickly wipped around, hiding the dagger and damaged envelope behind my back. "Nothing," I quickly replied, "nothing at all."

Zela stood before be, holding a wisker basket in her arms. Her brow narrowed. I sensed that she was become aware of my lie. "What is behind your back?" she then asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Nothing," I replied.

"Do not lie to me, Zaden. What is behind your back?"

"Nothing!" I replied.

Zela set down her basket and slow began to approach, step by step. "Give me what you have behind your back," said Zela, "or I shall _take _it from you."

That proposition actually _scared _me. I had seen Zela training with the weapons provided be the Dwemer. Her mover were fast, accurate, and without mercy. I wished not to be on the receiving end of her attacks. So, in relenent, I revealed the letter from behind my back, which Zela quickly snatched from my fingers.

Zela read the mailing address on the front of the envelope. "It is… for me!" exclaimed. Zela then flipped the envelope over to see that I had already opened it halfway.

"You were opening my mail?!" Zela exclaimed. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Well," I replied, "… you must admit that _you_ receiving mail when you never have before _is _highly suspect."

"That does not give you the right to search through _my _personal possessions!"

"… You are right, Zela," I admitted, "and I am sorry… But in any case, what does it say?"

Zela finished opening the envelope and began to skim its contents. "Sometimes, Zaden," she said, "you can be such an insensitive-"

She halted mid-word, now only concentrating on the letter itself. Her eyes frantically scanned from left to right, reading the letter intently. Then, as her eyes neared the bottom of the paper, a visible look of shock came upon Zela's face.

"I- I cannot believe it," Zela whispered to herself.

"What is it?" I asked.

Then, in a complete turn of emotion, Zelaq's face shifted from shock to pure joy. "Oh, Zaden!" she exclaimed. "This is joyous news!"

"What is?" I asked.

"This letter is from my parents!"

Never, in all the time Zela and I knew each other, have we _once_ discussed the subject of Zela's parents.

"Your parents?" I asked. "What does the letter say?"

Zela look back to the letter. "It says that they, since I left home, have moved to the shipping village of Hla Oad. They wish for me to visit!" Her eyes then shifted back to mine. "We must leave at once!"

I turned to Hui. "How far is Hla Oad?" I asked him.

Hui thought for a brief mement, then replied "Not too far. Atop our horses, if we gallop most of the way, we can make it in several hours."

"I see… so if we leave early tomorrow morn-"

"No!" interjected Zela. "We leave at this very moment! It has been eleven years since I have seen my parents. I shall not wait another minute!"

I admired her determination.

I smiled. "Very well," I said, "we shall leave in one hour."

o0o

As it were, the path to Hla Oad led down familiar grounds. At first, the path was the same one we took in route to the Arch-Mage's estate, following the flow of the River Odai. However, when we came upon the sight of the collapsed bridge, we simply had to follow the river to its end. The river, beyond the bridge, began its slow bend south, toward the ocean.

Once the sight of the ocean met our eyes, our path shifted North, along the western coast. Soon, the geography of the land changed greatly. We were now entering the Bitter Coast, the western swamps of Vvardenfell. The Bitter Coast was a humid, wet place, littered with polls of algae filled, stagnant ponds. The trees produced a thick canopy overhead. The growth of vines was quite apparent, as they seemed to grow on any inert surface.

Here, in this swamp, I laid eyes upon a new and strange creature: the Netch. Netches are a species of airborne jellyfish that propel through the air with the use of special air pouches, filled with lighter-than-air gasses. This particular Netch, the Bull Netch, had a tan, shell like armor with a soft, purple air sac below. Six tentacles hung from the stomach and slid across the ground as it moved, searching for food.

"You lived in such an environment?" I asked Zela at one point during our journey.

Zela nodded. "That I did," she replied. "Now that I look back, I believe that this is possibly the_ worst _place to be raised."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"There is a reason that the Bitter Coast has been dubbed the 'Smugglers' Coast.' This region of Vvardenfell is a haven for organized crime. I should know, being a member of the Thieves Guild. The near constant fog of the swamps gives smuggling ships the perfect cover from patrolling Empire ships. The same goes for smuggling convoys. If ever caught, the criminals can very easily slip into the swamps and hide."

"I assume you use such things to your advantage?" I asked.

Zela nodded. "It was in the Bitter Coast that earned my living in my first years on the road. It was ease: robbing travelers that passed by, stealing from trade convoys. It was a prosperous life and once I began, I simply could not walk away from it."

"I am glad you did not," I said, "for it has made you into the woman I love today."

Zela smiled and gave me a kiss on my left cheek. "As morally wrong as that statement is," she said, "that was very sweet of you to say."

After another hour or so of travel, we finally happened upon the fishing village of Hla Oad. All the shops and residential housing were built upon a series of wooden docks that stretched fifty yards from the shore. After hitching the horses in a small stable, we four began to search the docks for any sign of Zela's parents.

As we searched, Zela's mention of the criminal aspect of the Bitter Coast became apparent. Hla Oad seemed infested with criminals: bandits, robbers, highwaymen, and so on. As we walked the wooden docks, Zela advised us all to "Stay close and do _nothing _to provoke the residents."

By "residents," she _really _meant "criminal scum."

Our plan of search was, for lack of better word, blind. We had to resort to asking the various peoples that walked by, going off Zela's eleven year old physical description of her mother and father. For them most part, not a soul could be bothered with our plight. Nearly all passed us by without so much as a look.

After what seemed an eternity of hopeless questioning, asking nearly the entire population of Hla Oad, our hopes seemed completely gone. It seemed the chances of locating Zela's parents were now slim to none. I could see the despair in Zela's eyes, masking over what was previously hopeful disposition.

I attempted to comfort her. "Worry not, my love," I said, "we shall find them."

"I do not know, Zaden," she replied. "We have asked nearly all of Hla Oad and knocked on the door of every residential home, only to yield not a single result. I am beginning to believe that the letter was a hoax… perhaps we should head back home."

I sighed. "Very well, Zela. If that is your wish, we shall spend the night in Hla Oad, then make our return journey home in the morn."

With broken spirits, Hui, Varon, Zela, and I began our search for an inn. The sun, at this hour, began its setting in the west. As the sun touched the horizon, the light struck the low swamp gas, creating a beautiful orange glow that shimmered upon the water's surface.

As we searched the docks for an open inn, twilight quickly turned to night, revealing the _true _Hla Oad. The criminal underbelly of the city began it make its appearance. The docks now held host to a number of questionable individuals: shifty characters, dressed in dark clothing, and armed to the teeth.

As we turned the corner onto a dimly lit section of the city, the aforementioned criminal underbelly showed a face. Jumping out from the shadow behind an abandoned building, a cloaked figure stood in our path, brandishing a loaded crossbow. "Stop!" she yelled. "Move not another inch or I shall shoot!" She was a Dunmer female with short, brunet hair and near flawless skin (a single scar marred her left cheek.)

Not wishing to provoke her, we raised pur hand over our heads. With her finger placed upon the trigger, she slowly approached and began to strip us of any valueables. She began with Zela.

As the bandit began to search through each of Zela's pockets, looking for valuables, Zela was able to get a clearer loom of the bandit's face. Suddenly, Zela's face lit up like an oil lantern. "Ivela!" Zela exclaimed.

The bandit jumped back from fright. "How did you know my name?" she asked.

I was curious as well.

"Do you not recognize me?" Zela asked. The bandit shook her head. "Think back aways," she continued, "back when we were but teens."

The bandit lowered her weapon and a look of deep thought came upon her face. After a brief moment, her face lit up as well. "Zela?" she asked. "Is that you?"

Zela nodded with a smile.

Overcome with joy, the bandit dropped her weapon. Her and Zela approached each other and embraced each other as if lifelong friends.

"Zela, do you know this woman?" I asked.

Zela nodded. "That I do," she replied. "This is Ivela. We were close friends when I played a more active role in the Thieves Guild. We would often participate in missions as a pair."

"And we had, if I recall, a _perfect_ success rate. Not once did we fail," commented Ivela.

"I see that the life of a thief has not left you, Ivela," said Zela.

"And never _will _it leave me. During your absence from the guild, I made a journey to the mainland, to the Imperial providence of Cyrodiil, in hopes of a more profitable career in thievery. However, quickly did I learn that the mighty hand of the Empire is ever stronger there. It was a miserable place for me. I quickly returned and sought refuge in the 'Smuggler's Coast.'

But enough about I: what of you in the time spent apart?" Ivela asked.

"Well," said Zela, "I spent much of my time wandering the roads, thieving my living wherever I went." Zela's beautiful eyes then shifted to me. "Then… I met Zaden, and nothing has been the same ever since."

"I see," said Ivela with a smile, "but I also must ask: What brings you here to Hla Oad?"

"I received a letter stating that my parents were here in this village. As of now, we have been unsuccessful in locating them… Would you happen to know where they are?"

"You are in luck," replied Ivela, "for I _do _know where they are. They live south of the village in a small shack, just alone the water's edge. If you want, I can show you to it."

"Lead the way," replied Zela.

With that, Ivela led us out of the thug infested docks of Hla Oad and back into the swamps. Retrieving our horses and mounting them once again, Ivela led the path on foot. We stuck to a southbound road that led through a thick concentration of stagnant swamps. The incest infestation within the swamps was so great, it felt as if the very air around us was trying to eat us alive.

After ten minutes or so of travel, we finally happened upon the home in question. Half of the house was built upon solid while the other half was built over the water, suspended above with dock posts. As we approached, we noticed black smoke rising from the metal stove pipe. Someone was within.

As we hitched our horses to a tree, Ivela regretfully announced that she needed to take her leave. "Besides," she said as she left, "I would simply feel out of place. This is your day, Zela and friends, not mine." As she turned back north and followed the trail to Hla Oad, I watched as Zela approached the old, wooden door of the shack. With trembling fingers, she knocked on the door three times.

It was a brief moment before the door opened with a creek. Form the other side, a pair of old, Dunmer eyes peaked through. Before Zela could speak a word, the old man gave what seemed a premeditated greeting.

"The shop is _closed_," he recited. "The shop reopens an hour after sunrise." He then slammed the door shut, leaving Zela with a dumbfounded look upon her face.

"He did not even recognize me!" exclaimed Zela coming on the verge of tears.

"That is because he did not get a good look at you through the crack of his door," I said. I will _make_ him see."

As Zela took a few steps back, Iapproached the door and _banged_ my fist against it three times.

The old man returned and swung the door fully open. The old man had deep aging lines upon his face and near white hair upon his balding scalp and a short white beard. The man wore an earth brown robe, adorned with gold cloth along its hem. "Look," he said agitatedly, "I already told your friend that the store is _closed_. Come back when _daylight _is upon us!"

"You treated my friend," I said, "with great disrespect. I believe she deserves an apology."

"I am not apologizing to anyone. Go away!"

"We are not leaving until she receives an apology."

Just then, the old man's wife appeared from behind him. She, as well, had deep aging lines. She had long silver-blue hair that was tied neatly in a bun. She wore a silk nightgown, as if she had just risen from bed.

"What is all that racket?" she asked her husband.

"These people are refusing to leave just because I will not apologize to one of them."

"That is correct," I said, "and I shall remain to my word. We will leave when you apologize to my friend."

"And why," snapped the old man, "would I _ever _apologize to _her_?"

"Because," I replied, "one should never treat a _family member _in such a manner."

The old man was initially taken back by that very remark. "Family?" he asked. "What do you mean by family?!"

Just then, Zela approached the old man and look directly into his eyes. "Do you not see the resemblance?" she asked.

Suddenly, the old man and woman's eyes widened to the size of silver drakes. It was unmistakable now.

"… Zela?" asked the old man, his voice on the verge of tears, "is that you?"

A single tear rolled down Zela's face. "Hello… _father_," she said.

o0o

The interior of the shack was spartan in nature. The centerpiece of the single room shack was the dining table, which sat low against the ground upon legs one foot in length. One wall of the room held host to a long table that stretched from wall to wall. A great display of alchemy ingredients and apparatuses were set atop the table. The wood burning stove sat against the wall opposite the door and along the wall to our left was a single, double bed.

Once we were all inside, Zela introduced her parents to Varon, Hui, and I. "Everyone," said Zela, "This is my mother, Llondresa, and my father, Gothren."

"Oh Zela!" exclaimed Llondresa as she wrapped her arms around her daughter. "I am so happy to see you once again!" She gazed into Zela's face. "Oh, and you are just as beautiful as ever."

"I assume that you received our letter?" asked Gothren.

"That I did," replied Zela, producing said letter from the inside pocket of her robe.

"How were you able to seek me out?" asked Zela.

"It was strange, really," replied Llondresa. "About two years ago, in Hla Oad, we overheard a pair of shifty individuals talking about _you_, Zela. They spoke that you had resigned from the Thieves Guild, that you were the first to do so in many years.

Why did you resign, Zela? The Thieves Guild was your path to a successful life, much more that _we _could offer you here. "

Zela face froze as still as a statue for the slightest of seconds. None but I caught it. Somehow, I knew what she was thinking: she was thinking back to that last assignment, how, in blind fright, killed an innocent youngling. I wondered if she would tell the truth to her parents or not.

"I- I grew bored of the guild," she lied. "The Thieves Guild gave me a good start, but eventually, I was well enough off to cut ties."

Thankfully, her parents bought the lie. "I see," replied Gothren. "Well, off of that subject," he said as he approached Varon, Hui, and I, "who are these others that you travel with?"

Varon was the first to step forward and introduce himself. "I am Varon Varvur," he said with a bow, "nobleman and former resident of Castle Ebonheart."

"Why leave such a place?" asked Gothren. "I would _kill _to live in such luxury, and you turn your back to it?"

"Believe me," replied Varon, "such a live is not as it appears. _I _would kill to live in a more simplistic lifestyle, such as yours."

"… If you say so," said Gothren in disbelief. "And what is wrong with your eyes, boy? Are you, perhaps, blind?"

Varon gave a grin. "Visually, yes," he replied, "but, in some ways, I see better than those _with _their vision."

Gothren looked back to Zela with a single cocked eye. "You keep strange company, Zela," he said. This produced a laugh from not only Zela, but from Llondresa as well.

As Gothren then approached Hui, Llondresa went to the wood burning stove and placed a kettle atop it, then filling it with water.

"And who be this Argonian, Zela," asked Gothren, "your slave?"

I could literally feel the fires of anger in Hui's eyes. I feared that Hui would make a retaliating remark. Thankfully, Zela approached her father, placing her hands upon his shoulders.

"No, father," said Zela, "he is a friend. This is Hui, a wizard of the Mages Guild."

"Truly?" asked Gothren. "I have always wanted to meet a wizard! Please, Argonian, could you regale me with a display of your prowess?"

Hui thought for a brief moment, possibly contemplating what to do. Then, Hui's eyes finally fell upon the stove, where the old woman sat nearby, waiting for the kettle to whistle. Hui raised his hand toward the kettle and, with the snap of his fingers, the kettle instantly began to scream.

The old man was not impressed. "Lucky guess," he commented. "I wish to see _real _magic, Wizard. Show me fire, lightening, what have you."

"Very well," replied Hui. Now, holding an open hand before Gothren, Hui hovered a simple ball of fire above his palm. Then, Hui extinguished the fire and, in its place, caused lightening to jump between his fingers. With that last display, Hui lowered his arm to his side.

"Impressive," commented the old man. He then approached me, his eyes looking upon me with masked hatred. I remembered back to that first day in Vvardenfell, how I quickly learned of the deep seeded hatred of the Dunmer toward Imperials.

Apparently, he was no different.

"Zela," said Gothren, "who be this Imperial? A nobleman? He seems to be dressed as one."

"No," replied Zela, "he is not a nobleman. This is Zaden, member of the Fighters Guild."

"And what relation," Gothren asked me, "have you with my daughter."

What to say, what to say?

I could not tell him that we were married, for that would be an outright untruth. I could not say that we were engaged, for I never truly proposed to her (though came quite close to it.) Finally, an answer appeared.

"We have… _relations_," I finally replied.

In an instant, the old man knew _exactly_ what I meant. With his face now red with rage, he whipped around toward Zela. "Zela!" he exclaimed. "You have made relations to this _Imperial_?! This… _N'wah?!_"

Ah, _that _word again.

"Father," said Zela, "do not refer to my future husband in such a way!"

"Husband?!" exclaimed Gothren, the veins in his head now beginning to protrude. "Are you saying that you are engaged to this Imperial?!"

"No, not yet," said Zela as she slowly walked to my side, then interlocking her arm with mine, "but someday, we _will _be married."

Thankfully, before Gothren could carry on with another hate filled rant, Llondresa chimed in with her opinion. "I think it is grand," she said with a smile, "that our daughter has found a companion." Gothren _clearly_ did not agree. "Now please," she continued, "before we go any further, let us sit down for a drink."

Llondresa placed a silverware tray upon the low sitting table. Upon the tray were six short, green glass cups, holding what appeared to be hot tea. Gothren and Llondresa sat next to each other on one end of the table. Zela and I sat together as well, sitting at the end opposite of her parents. Hui took a seat to my left while Varon took a seat to Zela's left.

Taking the warm glass from the tray, I brought the drink to my lips and tasted a small sip. It tasted of tea… but had the all too familiar taste of alcohol as well. Taking another sip, I tasted the subtle flavors of crushed mint leaves, honey, and a squeeze of lemon.

"This is delicious," I whispered both to myself and to Zela. "What is this called?"

"There is no true name," replied Zela with a whisper as well. "I remember my mother making this the day I became of _legal _drinking age."

As I took another sip, a frightening thought appeared in my head. If was drinking an alcoholic drink, then Gothren was drinking one as well. I feared that, with the advent of intoxicants in his system, his rage toward me would be multiplied.

"Zela," I whispered aside, "do you think it unwise to supply your father (who is clearly angered at me) with alcohol?"

"Relax," replied Zela, "in truth, my father becomes _mellowed_ when he drinks."

"Enough whispering over there!" commanded Gothren from across the table. "I must say, Zela, that I do _not _approve of this relationship. How could this have happened?"

Thankfully, in opposition to Zela's father, her mother seemed to support our togetherness. "What you father _means _to say," said Llondresa, "is 'How did you meet?'"

"Well," replied Zela, "we met at a supply depot on a travel route between Seyda Neen and Balmora. I was pleading with a food merchant to supply me with a meal, but I had not a single septum on me. Thankfully, Zaden appeared and, without a second thought, graciously paid for my food. Then, as we began to talk, I learned that he had just arrived from the mainland and-"

"Hold a moment," interrupted Gothren. "So my assumptions were _correct_. He is not of Vvardenfell, or Morrowind for that matter."

"Does this concern you?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact, it _does_," he replied. "This means that you _are _truly N'wah scum, just as I had assumed."

"You should not refer to Zaden in such a manner," said Zela, "especially considering his current title."

"Title? What title do you refer to?" he asked.

Zela took a long drink from her cup, if only to heighten the suspense, then finally replied, with a smile across her face, "Zaden… is the reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar."

Dead.

Silence.

The look upon both Gothren and Llondresa's face was a mixture of confusion and shock (but mostly confusion.) Then, the look upon Gothren's face turned for the worst, shifting to a grim shade of disappointment. He then raised his glass to his lips and down what was left of it (which, at that moment, was nearly three quarters of the original amount), then slammed the glass upon the wooden table.

"Zela," said Gothren in a low voice, "why do you feel the need to _lie _to us? Is it to _impress _us? To cast better light upon yourself?"

"I am not lying!" exclaimed Zela, "he _is _the rebirth of Nerev-"

"Enough!" exclaimed Gothren and he jumped to his feet. "I do not wish to hear anymore of your lies, Zela. If you continue to speak this nonsence, I will have to ask you to leave."

With despair upon Zela's face, her worried eyes shifted toward her mother, who had remained silent throughout this entire ordeal. "Mother," said Zela, "surely _you _believe me?"

"I- I do not know," replied Llondresa. "I must admit, your story is rather hard to believe. I am sorry, Zela, but I have to side with your father on this dilemma."

I could see the uncertainty in Zela's eyes. She was quickly losing the grip of the situation. I had to intervene. I could not stand idly by and watch as Zela's family is torn apart.

I stood up from the table. "There is prove to Zela's claim!" I announced. "Behold," I said as I placed my left hand before Gothren's face, revealing the ring upon my ring finger. "Moon and Star," I said, "the ring forged by Kagrenac and blessed by Azura, the ring that only Indoril Nerevar and his _reincarnation_ can wear!"

Anger changed to utter shock in an instant. Gothren fell to his knees, Llondresa quickly coming to his aid. "By Azura's graces!" he exclaimed, "you _are _Nerevar!" Gothren quickly bowed his head until it touched the floor. "Please, Nerevar, forgive me of my unkind words toward you. Forgive me!"

"You are forgiven," I replied, "but please, do not see me as Nerevar. Rather, see me as a regular individual, as an equal."

Gothren lifted his head from the floor. "Very well, Ner- I mean, Zaden."

"Now then," I said with a smile, my eyes shifted toward Llondresa, "is there any more of that wonderful drink left?"

o0o

For the remainder of that night, we sat around the low sitting table, sipping away at our drinks, regaling each other with stories and tales. Chiefly, it was _I_ that did much of the talking, retelling the great journey that I undertook. All the while, as I spoke, Zela's mother and father listened intently, never looking uninterested in the slightest. In fact, they were enthralled of my story, if not to be in my very presence.

When the stories were all done and told, it was an hour before midnight, time to retire. Unfortunately, there were not enough beds for everyone. The only place where we could sleep was the shed located behind the shack. "It is not much," as Llondresa said, "but it is better than sleeping outside, where the insects will eat you alive."

While Zela, Varon, and Hui went straight to sleep, I could not slumber so easily. So, to pass the time until I _was _ready, I packed my tobacco pipe and sat on the edge of a dock, the end suspended over the water's surface. As I blowed clouds of smoke into the night sky, the two moon began to rise over the eastern horizon. For some reason unbeknownst to me, the moon's colors were different: the larger red moon, Masser, was not a deep purple and the smaller white moon, Secunda, was a deep blue.

"What is causing the moon to look so different?" I asked myself outloud.

As soon as I asked, the answer came from Gothren, who was standing behind me, a pipe in hand as well. "It is the swamp gas," he answered. "The gas has its own visible color, a deep blue. So, when the gas comes between the moons, the colors blend together, causing the moons to have strange appearances. "

"Interesting," I commented.

"… I wanted to… apologize for my earlier conduct," said Gothren. "It was wrong of me to make such blunt assumptions of your character based on the fact that you are an outlander… It is just that… as you are most likely aware, there is such a deep seeded hate between the Dunmer and Imperials. I suppose I let it get the best of my judgement."

"I understand, Gothren," I said.

"It is just… I want what is _best_ for my daughter, I want her to be happy… and, if she is happy being with _you_… I shall not interfere."

Rising to my feet, I turned to face Gothren, the age lines in his face further pronounced in the moon light. "Thank you," I replied.

"Do not thank me just yet, Zaden. There are questions I must ask you."

"Ask away."

"… Do you love Zela?" he asked.

"… With all my heart," I replied.

"Would you _die _for her, Nerevar?"

"I would die a thousand deaths to ensure her safety. I would walk to the ends of Nirn to be with her."

"And when are you to make an honest woman of her?" Gothren asked.

I took a long inhale from my pipe. "When Dagoth Ur," I replied, "has fallen by my hands."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

**Author's Note: For those who have followed my story thus far, I thank you. Now, I feel I need to explain something to the readers: the reason that I was able to put up so many chapters in a relatively short time span was because they were written before hand. I started this story about a year and a half ago. It took me about a third of the time up until now to write it. Then, when I looked back at my accomplishment, I said to myself, "Damn, my writing _sucks_!" So, I went back, and rewrote the chapters, taking about two more thirds of the aforementioned time. Then, the idea of posting my story of came up recently, and I posted all the chapters you see now in a few weeks time.**

**But the story is not yet over... There are a few more chapters to post, and I must go through the process of rewriting them as I go on.**

**My point being: updates might be slower than usual (especially with the advent of my freshman year in college.)**

**Be patient, my fellow readers and authors. The story shall be completed.**

**Also, please feel free to give reviews, for as I have said "Any criticism is constructive criticism."  
**


	28. The Beginning of The End

Chapter 28: The Beginning of The End

Form that day forward, upon our return to Balmora, it seemed as if I served every day for the purpose of training. Every day, from nine in the morn to about two hours after noon, I would practice combat training in the Fighters Guild. Eydis Fire-Eye, when offered the opportunity, gladly accepted the position of being my personal sparring partner and teacher.

Eydis's style of teaching was unlike others: there were no true moments where she would directly _teach_ me something. It was, rather, sparring match after sparring match after sparring match. She would often pitch me against multiple opponents against me, sometimes exceeding twenty five in number. Though I would fail often, I became more skilled with every passing day: my movements became quicker, more fluent, my physical strength increasing as well.

Then, after the many hours of sparring and a break for lunch, it was onto the second phase of my daily training: magecraft. Hui would, every day, lead me to that abandoned field to the east of Balmora and there, we would test the limits of my abilities. _His _training would often consist of me producing great displays of offensive magic toward the sky (such as columns of fire, bolts of lightning, and icy winds) and maintain them for as long as possible. Often, Varon and Zela would accompany, watching from afar, but soon, large crowds traveled from Balmora to watch as well.

As the day of the Assault loomed ever closer, the relative worries of that day grew as well. Thoughts of doubt began to spring in my head, self-skepticism began to invade my every thought. I often questioned myself if I was _truly _ready to take on this seemingly insurmountable task.

What if I were to fail?

o0o

Two months later...

Clouds blanketed the sky, the morning sun hidden from view. The Ashlands were just as I remembered, a barren, burned wasteland, a scar upon Vvardenfell. Riding through these forsaken lands on this most pivotal of days, my mind grew ever more stressed. Every few moments, the sneaking suspicion that I was being watched came upon me. It could have perhaps been my mind playing tricks on me… or perhaps I was correct.

I look behind me to Hui and Varon, riding atop Kalak. There eyes were just as suspicious as mine. "Hui," I called out to him, "how much longer until the Ghostgate?"

Retrieving a map from a saddle bag and scanning it, he replied "Not much longer. Once we take this right when this path forks, it will be another thirty minutes."

"Good," I said quietly to myself.

That map was all too essential for our journey. The Ashlands, especially located near the vicinity of Red Mountain, was a maze of deep cuts in the earth. Without a map, one would _easily _become lost.

Zela wrapped he arms around my waist from behind. "What is wrong?" she asked. "I can feel you trembling."

"I am not worried," I replied. In truth, though, I _was _worried. On the eve of this historic day, my mind raced with the possibility of failure. But I did not show my feelings, for it would have just worried everyone.

Taking the right in a fork in the road, the ambient noise about me, (the quiet howling of the wind through the canyons, the far off growls of wild animals), suddenly stopped. It became almost dead silent. Even the horses, which would make the occasional grunt, went quiet as well.

Unsheathing the pump shotgun from my back and grasping it tightly in my hands, we slowly strolled down the path. My senses became heightened. With the aid of magic powers, I was able to hear _everything_ around me: the fluttering of birds wings as they flew overhead, the far of footsteps of a Nix-Hound as it stalked its prey, the unsuspecting rat that was about to become the Nix-Hound's lunch. Everything around me was accounted for: no threats were present.

As the road turned into a long, cruving left, I could suddenly hear in the far off distance the sounds of… voices... _many _ voices.

"Zela," I said, "can you hear that?"

Zela nodded. "Yes," she replied.

"What do you think they are?"

"I do not know," she replied. "Perhaps you should ask Varon. His hearing is far superior to ours."

Taking her advice, I slowed Apoc's pace until we were side by side. "Varon," I said, "surely you hear these voices. Can you identify their source?"

Varon listened intently to the voices that grew ever louder as we continued down the trail. "They seem to be the voices of… commoners," he replied. "Not of daedra, demons, or foes, but of average people. I feel that there is nothing to fear."

I pressed Blunderbuss against my shoulder, aiming down its sights, the barrel pointing forward down the bend. As the horses forward, the voices grew louder and louder, and a low hum could be heard. Turning one last rocky bend, the source of the noise was finally revealed.

Before us stood a great wall of blue energy, reaching two hundred feet high. A large temple was constructed between the energy walls, acting as the only gate in and out. The voices came from a crowd of people, citizens that gathered from all corners of Vvardenfell, who came to see me on this most historic of days.

Revealing myself from behind the rocky bend, the crowd burst into thunderous applause. Riding through the crowd, the four of us scanned around us, looking for anyone to help us. After but a few seconds, our help revealed himself: an Imperial, dressed in the black robe of the Blades, approached us and said "Follow me."

The Imperial lead us to a hitching post, where we roped off our horses and dismounted. The Imperial approached me and shook my hand. "At last, Nerevar has arrived," he said. "This is the day all our lives will change _forever_."

"For the _better_," I added. Looking around me, I noticed that something was amiss. "Where is the army?" I asked.

"The Holy Army is in waiting," he replied, "just behind that bend to the East. I can call them at any time you wish."

"Summon them now," I commanded. "I wish to inspect the troops."

"Very well," he replied. Reaching into a messenger bag he had slung over his left shoulder, he retrieved a horn, made from an abandoned conk shell. Placing the tapered end to his lips, he blew into it, emitting a low tone that echoed off the canyon walls. A few seconds later, the rhythmic sound of marching feet was heard coming around said rocky bend. Three hundred soldiers, clad in black ebony armor, arranged ten wide by thirty long, marched in perfect formation toward the Ghostgate. On the chest plates of their armor, the Moon and Star insignia was painted in white.

"Company… halt!" yelled their commander, who at the front of the formation, and every soldier stopped in unison, now standing still as statues.

"Incredible, is it not?" asked the Imperial.

"This _is_ incredible," I replied. "With an army such as this, we can take on _anything_ Dagoth Ur sends our way."

"Would you like me to explain their equipment?" he asked.

"Please, do so," I replied.

Turning to the army, he announced a command. "Soldiers," he said, "remove your helms! Let your master see the faces of who fights for him!" The soldiers did so, and I was surprised to see that my army was an _Orc_ army: green skinned, black eyed, bottom teeth that stuck out over their top lip, hair shaven off completely.

I turned to the Imperial. "An _Orc_ army?" I whispered.

"We promised three hundred of our finest warriors, and that is what we suplied. The Orcs are a mighty warrior race. They will fight to the death. They have been equipped with full sets of ebony armor, ebony swords, and ebony tower shields, but the most powerful piece of their equipment is that of the Mages Guild." He then pointed to a soldier in the front line. "You there! Front and center!"

The soldier immediately marched over and stood in attention before the two of us. "Yes sir?" he said.

"Show to Nerevar what the Arch-Mage bestowed upon you."

The Orc reached for a string the hung from his neck and retrieved from behind his chest plate a faint purple crystal that hung from said string.

"This crystal," said the Imperial, "has been enchanted by the Arch-Mage himself. When worn, these crystals cast an invisible magic shield around the wearer which will protect them from magic based attacks. While it cannot deflect more powerful blasts, it should be able to take the brunt of _most _magic."

"Excellent," I said.

"The assault," he said, "shall begin when you see fit."

"Very well," I replied, "just... let me have some time to say my goodbyes."

The Imperial nodded his head and left, leaving Hui, Varon, Zela, and I alone. We stood silently for what seemed an eternity. I knew they wanted to speak, to voice their goodbyes, but for some reason, they did not. They acted as if _afraid_ to speak.

Finally, Varon broke the silence, taking a step forward and standing before me. "Zaden," he said, "five months ago, I was but a prisoner in Castle Ebonheart. Unable to do things for myself, I often wondered if there was any point left in _living_. But when you came, I knew _you_ were the one to take me from my living hell.

You brought me into a new world, a world, for nearly all my life, has been denied me. Although I cannot witness this world with my _eyes_, I have experienced it in every other way possible. You have shown me so much... I do not know how I can _ever_ repay you."

I smiled. "There is no need to repay me," I replied. "The pleasure has been all mine."

Varon then took a step back, Hui then taking his place before me. "Zaden," said Hui, "you have been the _greatest_ of friends over the years. Without you, I do not know _where_ I would be in life." He paused. "Before you leave," he said, "I wish to bestow upon you one last teaching."

"Very well," I replied.

"_This _teaching is not one of words, but one rather… of action."

Hui reached out with his reptilian hand and, much like when we swapped manas, placed his middle and fore finger upon the center of my brow. In an instant, our manas were combined into one, our heartbeats became synchronized for that brief moment in time.

When he lifted his fingers from my face, I asked Hui. "What exactly did you do?"

"We shared not only manas," he replied, "but also shared a gift, a power only shared with wizards."

"What be the gift?" I asked.

Then, Hui spoike… without the use of his mouth. "_Can you her me?_" he asked.

"How did you do that?!" I exclaimed.

"_This,"_ said Hui, "_is telepathy, the ability to speak with one's mind. You and I, Zaden, are able to communicate no matter where we may be, be it a continent away, or in different realms._

_ Now, while you venture within the confines of the Ghostgate, you make ask me of what you see or experience."_

I leaned in and gave Hui a hug, but I did not immediately let go. I whispered into his ear, low enough so Zela could not overhear. "Hui," I said, "can you promise me something?"

"Anything," he replied.

"If I do not return... I want you to keep Zela safe."

"... I do not understand," Hui replied.

I let go of Hui and took half a step back. "I have known you, Hui, for a long time now, ever since my first day in Vvardenfell. You are the best friend I have ever had, and I _know_ you would keep Zela happy in my absence."

"Do you ask of me to _marry_ her?" he whispered.

"… If that is what she wishes… I shall allow it."

Hui was shocked. "Zaden," he said, "I do not know if I could possibly-"

"You _can_ and you _will_," I demanded.

Hui looked to the ground and gave a slight smile. "Very well," he said, looking back into my eyes, "I will keep her safe."

With that, Hui and Varon left together, leaving Zela and I alone. She stood silent before me, looking toward my feet. "Is she angered at me?" I wondered to myself, "and if so, at what?" Finally, I asked her "Does something bother you?" The second I asked, a tear fell from her eye and on to the blackened ground we stood upon.

Suddenly, she threw herself against me, burying her head into my chest. She began to sob uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around her, whispering in her ears "It is ok, Zela. Cry all you want."

"Oh Zaden," she said, "I always knew that this day would come, but I wished it never would. I do not want to lose you. If such a thing were to happen... I just do not know what I would do! You are everything to me, Zaden!"

"Do not worry, Zela," I said back, "I _will _return. I promiss." Giving her one last kiss goodbye, I cast the white hood of the hooded cape over my head, turned and walked before the army. Standing at the head of the army's formation, I turned to face them all. Casting a levitation spell upon myself, I lifted myself a few feet above the ground, just enough so every one of the three hundred soldiers could see me.

"My army!" I announced. "Today is a day that shall be remembered by all throughout history! Today, we make a stand against the evil reign of Dagoth Ur! Today, we shall walk through the confines of The Ghost Gate with our heads held high and our swords stained with the blood of our enemies! Today... Dagoth Ur _falls_!"

The Orc army let out a collective roar that sounded like that of a lion. Slowly lowering myself back to the ground, I unslung Blunderbuss from my back and grasped it tight in both hands. As I approached the door of the Ghostgate, the Holy Army followed close, remaining in perfect formation, swords clutched in their right hands, tower shields held in their left. Every step they took seemed to shake the ground, and with every step, I grew more nervous, for I did not know what lied beyond what Vivec told me. The door in question was a solid slab of metal with a decorative symbol adorning it. When the door opened with a slide to the right, the army and I filed into the small corridor. The door then shut behind us, plunging us in complete darkness.

We stood silently in the small room. The only thing that could be heard was the heavy breathing of the Orcs and the shifting of metal armor. 'Heed these words," I said. "On the other side of this door are ash storms and monsters that you have only seen in nightmares. We must press through them and scale the volcano's side. Two miles inward is our first objective: Built into the side of Red Mountain is the Dwemer ruin, Odrosal. This is where Keening is.

Next, we circle the volcano's perimeter and make our way to the Northwest side, where the hammer Sunder awaits in another Dwemer ruin. After that, we shall head directly South into the _heart_ of the volcano, where Dagoth Ur's fortress is located. I _alone_ will enter his domain, and Dagoth Ur will be _dead_ by day's end!"


	29. Keening

Chapter 29: Keening

A moment later, the door slowly slid open, and we were instantly hit with the brunt force of a powerful wind that felt as hot as an oven. Ash flew into our eyes, temporarily blinding us. Wiping out eyes clean, we press forward into the unknown. The ash storms were intense, limiting our visual range to only about fifty yards, turning the skies above us a crimson red. I called out to the troops "Continue North" and so we did.

A single clear trail lead directly North up the side of Red Mountain. The farther we went North, the more steep the incline grew. After an hour of drudging through the blistering winds, the path inclined to the point where we were practically _crawled_ up the side of the volcano.

After another fifteen minutes, we came across a fork in the road. After memorizing the map provided to me by heart, I ordered my men to turn right. The trail lead to a rocky bend, where we seemed dwarfed by steep cliffs to our left. Suddenly, we could hear the fast approaching sound of roaring fires overhead. A volley of powerful fire spells crashed into the Cliffside above us, sending giant boulders cascading down upon us. While most were able to escape the boulders, some were not as fortunate, and they were crushed by the falling rocks.

"Where in Oblivion did that fire come from?!" yelled one of the soldiers. Looking to our right, we scanned the landscape fruitlessly for the fire's source. The storms made identifying the origin of the volley impossible. Just then, another volley of over thirty fireballs streaked overhead and struck the cliffside once more, sending down more boulders that killed more of my men.

I took aim toward where the fire seemed to eminate. Strapping Blunderbuss onto my back, and then pooling a vast amount of mana into my arms, I released a great collum of fire from each arm, sending it into the valley below. A few seconds after the fire disappeared behind the storm winds, a massive explosion of heat and flames erupted before us. The force of the blast was so great that my men and I were knocked flat upon our backs. Returning to our feet, a scene strait out of the Imperial depiction of hell was laid out before us: flames reached over two hundred feet in the air, the ground literally turned to glass. There was no way they survived that.

Pressing forward against the winds once more, we followed the trail down even further. Suddenly, strange buildings seemed to appear from the fog of the storm. Walking North toward the alleged buildings, our thoughts were confirmed. Built into the mountain side was the Dwemer ruin, Odrosal. Tall smoke stacks belched thick, black smoke into the wind, meaning that _something_ was within. The best part of it was that the mountain side shielded us from the intense winds.

Ordering the men to rest, one of them approached me, presumably the commanding officer. "Sir," he said, "we have a new head count."

"What be it?" I replied.

"Unfortunately, we lost thirty-seven to the boulders, Sir… Shall we enter Odrosal now?"

I shook my head. "No," I replied.

"Sir?"

"As I have said, I shall go alone. You men wait here, and if I do not return in an hour's time, send a squad to come in after me."

The armor clad orc nodded. "Yes, sir," he said.

With that, I unslung Blunderbuss from my back once more. Cocking a fresh shell into the chamber and flipping the safety off, I mentally prepared myself for whatever was to be on the other side. After all, the Dwemer have been dead for thousands of years. What could possibly lie within?

o0o

This was the first time I had ever seen a Dwemer ruin, let alone set foot within one. Needless to say, I was _breathless_. The Dwemer's technologically advancement became evident to me as I stepped in. My previous assumption was incorrect. Even thousands of years after their disappearance, the Dwemer's machinery was _still_ running. The walls or the fortress were covered with turning gears and cogs of all sizes and shapes. The walls, floor, and ceiling were constructed of the same orange-copper metal that the mile long bridge was made from. In place of torches, strange bulbs of glass hung from the ceiling, housing super heated coils of metal, which dimly bathed the interior with light. The hallway was bombarded with the constant loud clanging of metal machinery, so creeping through undetectable became _quite_ easy. The air was sweltering, in part to the constant stream of steam that emitted from the machinery that had been running for centuries.

Stealthily walking through the metal hallways, Blunderbuss grasped tightly in my hands, I was cautious of everything about me. Looking around a corner to the right, a double set of Dwemer metal doors lay before me. Walking toward it, I saw that it was without door knobs, handles, _or_ locks. "How in Oblivion do I open this?" I asked myself. Then, taking a step within a few feet of the door itself, the doors swung open automatically, revealing a "welcoming party" on the other side.

In the next room were three Dwemer centurions. Two of them were Centurion Spheres: diamond shaped heads, a single, electronic right eye, a round shield in its left hand. There top body magnetically hovered above an independently moving metal ball, which was used for movement by rolling atop it. The other centurion was a Steam Centurion. It looked more similar to an armor clad warrior, standing over eight feet tall, a single spiked mace _was_ its right arm.

The Centurion Sphere on the right charged me first, accelerating rapidly upon the metal ball. Suddenly, a metal sword protruded from its right arm. Barely dodging the blade, I unloaded a shell of daedric buckshot into its head. A shower of sparks flew from the wound and the robotic being fell limp to the ground with a loud clang. The second Centurion Sphere attacked, protruding its blade and raising it high over its head, preparing for an overhead chop. Before it had the chance to follow through on its attack, I cocked a new shell into the chamber and shot the blade itself, removing it at the hilt, rendering the centruion's right arm useless. After firing another round into that centurion's head, I charged an electrical spell in my left hand and fired it at the Steam Centurion. The electricity surged through the centurion's metal body, frying its internal workings from the inside, causing it to explode in a shower of flames and sparks, sending metal fragments flying across the room.

Walking into the next room, doors automatically opened and then closed behind me. I found _this_ room to be completely _empty_: nothing to see except four support beams. Then, as I looked toward the ceiling, an incredible sight met my eyes. Attached to the ceiling were over a thousand _Spider_ Centurions: small, oval shaped spider-like robots, walking upon six spider like legs. They all hung from the ceiling by their legs, cold and motionless. They seemed to be not activated. I decided then to contact Hui.

"_Hui_," I said, "_can you hear me?_"

"_Perfectly,_" Hui replied. "_Have you found anything?_"

"_I am within the first of the Dwemer ruins. Above me hangs a multitude of Spider Centurions. I believe Keening to be in the next room, so how do I proceed?_"

"_Hmm… I have heard stories of these constructs. If I remember correctly, the account of a Dwemer ruin excavator said that the Spider Centurions are activated by an external device. Beware of traps, Zaden._"

With that, I moved ever more cautiously toward the opposite side of the room, where another set of doors awaited. Crouching toward the floor, with Blunderbuss in hand, I snuck across the room as silent as a mouse. After what seemed an eternity, I made it to the center of the room without incident. Suddenly, as I took a step forward, I felt something tug at my ankle. Looking down, I saw as my foot touched a near invisible trip wire and broke the strand.

Shit.

A winding noise sounded above me. Looking toward the ceiling, the Spider Centurions began to activate. The "metal flesh" sac on their backs began to inflated and what looked like a raging inferno of flame glowed from inside it. The centurions unlocked their legs from the ceiling and, with cat like agility, landed upon their feet. In an instant, I found myself surrounded by _thousands_ of robotic arachnids.

They approached me from all sides; they jumped at me, scratching at my flesh with their hinged legs. I attempted to defend myself, firing rounds randomly into the swarms of metal beings, but their numbers were too great. Soon, I found myself completely covered by the mechanized creatures. They were heavy, and they soon pinned me down to the floor. I needed to get them off of me, but I could not lift my arms nor my legs. Somehow, I needed to get these things off me.

Then, it hit me. Using the mana within, I surrounded myself in a swirling orb of flames, incinerating the centurions still attached to me. Returning to my feet, I intensified the flames, causing them to become hotter, causing them to swirl faster and faster about me. Then, releasing the energy, the flames spread outward like a shock wave in all directions, engulfing the entire room in searing heat. When the flames finally dissipated, all but one of the Spider Centurions were killed, the rest charred into smouldering piles of slag. The last centurion was crushed under the sole of my shoe.

Entering the next room, I was awe struck once again. This room, in stark contrast to the congested corridors of the main ruin, was a extraordinary cavern. A single, long metal bridge spanned the length of it, built over an ocean of magma located two hundred feet below. At the other end of the bridge, placed atop a metal alter, was the dagger, Keening.

Taking my first step onto the bridge, a whistle, like that of an arrow, approached from my right. A single, spear like weapon, made from Dwemer metal, sunk into the metal bridge I stood atop, landing within inches of my foot. Looking to my right, to the projectile's origin, I noticed a ridge against the cavern wall. On said ridge stood _forty_ Centurion Archers. They appeared similar to the Centurion Spheres; their right arm, in place of a protruding sword, was a spring- loaded weapon that shot the long, slender projectiles at tremendous speed. Looking to my left, the same number of archers adorned another ledge.

All at once, the eighty Centurion Archers fired their razor sharp projectiles in my direction, whizzing through the air like a hot knife through butter. In an instant, I cast a protective, purple energy shield about me and the projectiles merely bounced off, as if harmless rain drops. Letting the shield down, I charged a powerful electrical attack through both hands. Firing at the ledge to my right and upon contact, the bolt exploded with a thunderous crack, destroying all the centurions in an instant. Turning to the left ledge, I fired a spectacular ball of fire toward that ledge. Like a comet streaking through the sky, it engulfed the Centurion Archers. I could hear from afar their internal mechanisms exploding from the inside out.

With all opposition out of the way, I sprinted across the entire length of the bridge, only stopping at the foot of the alter. Keening itself was an amazing dagger: the grip was made of golden metal, the blade itself was a glowing crystal, sharper than _any_ material. The lightest of cuts from this dagger could have _easily_ cut through diamond.

Before I grasped my hand around the grip of Keening, I remembered back to the words of Vivec. In order to wield Keening and Sunder, Wraithguard must be word. So, reaching into my messenger bag, I retrieved the golden gauntlet Wraithguard. Slipping upon my right arm, a surge of energy and power overcame me.

Picking up the dagger and placing it into a loop on my gun belt, then quickly slipping Wraithguard off and placing back into my bag, the room suddenly began to shake wildly, as if I was in the very epicenter of an earthquake. Looking over the edge of the bridge, the magma began to rise rapidly. Given but a minute or so, it would surely engulf me. I sprinted back across the bridge using all the strength in my body. The magma raised higher and higher, the air around me becoming increasingly hotter and hotter. Sweat began to drip down my entire body. Reaching the doors, they automatically swung open, then once I passed through the archway, slammed behind me, effectivlybhalting the oncoming waves of molten rock.

"Thank Azura," I exclaimed out loud to myself, looking down at the magnificent dagger Keening that hung from my belt. "Now to leave this deathtrap." With that, I traversed back through the Dwemer ruin of Odrosal, stepping over the bodies of the mechanized guardians I previously killed.


	30. Sunder

Chapter 29: Sunder

Stepping outside, I was once again engulfed in the constant, intense ash storms of Red Mountain. The black armored Orcs still waited outside. As I approached and rejoined them, I noticed something was amiss, something _terribly _was amiss... there were less soldiers than before. The same Orc from before approached me once again.

"What happened?" I asked him, yelling as to be heard over the wind.

"There was another attack, Sir," he replied. "A large group of these strange people attacked. They were deformed people, drudging forward like the undead, but they slung spells like experts."

"Ash Zombies," I said outloud, "the very hell-spawns of Dagoth Ur himself. They are victums of the Corprus disease, but their minds were corrupted by Dagoth Ur's magic."

"We lost more men to the creatures, Sir," said the Orc.

Shit. "How many?" I asked reluctantly.

The Orc remained silent for a brief moment, hesitant to answer. Finally he replied, "Exactly fifty one, Sir."

"Fuck!" I exclaimed. This meant that there are now two hundred thirteen of the original three hundred warriors fighting at my side. At this rate, I feared, there would be none left alive at the day's end. "Rest for a bit little longer," I ordered, "then we must press froward."

After another ten minutes, we set off again, except this time, we traveled East. Following a trail that led along the edge of the volcano side, we remained partially sheltered from the winds. After about three hours of pressing through the wind, we came across another Dwemer bridge that curved to the left, spanning across a wide indentation in the edge of the volcano. As we marched across, I was more vigilant than ever, my senses heightened, looking out for _any_ clear and present danger.

Just as we were coming upon the other end of the bridge, three figures appeared before us. Three powerful Atronachs appeared in a flash of yellow light. The first, on the far left, was a Flame Atronach: a female daedra that had skin that glowed and looked of molten lava and had elemental control over fire. In the center was a Frost Atronach, which looked like a man made of solid ice and had elemental control over ice. And finally, the Storm Atronach stood to the far right. It looked to be a collection of stones, shaped into the form of a human. He had elemental control over lightening.

Bringing Blunderbuss in my hands, I ordered the men to "Raise their shields! I shall take these things myself!" Bringing their shields up to formation, the first line in the Holy Army created a solid wall of ebony. This, coupled with the magic deflecting amulets they wore around their necks, ensured their safety. Turning back to the trio of Atronachs, the Flame Atronach began the attack, shooting a constant column of searing flame at me. Raising an energy shield before me, which effectively deflected the flames, I charged in my left hand a powerful frost spell. Once the flame onslaught ended, I launched the ice attack at the flame daedra and instantly, she was frozen in place, encased in a thick slab of ice. With Blunderbuss still in hand, I fired a single shell into her chest and the ice shattered into a million fragments, which were then blown away in the wind.

The Frost Atronach took a step forward, ready to avenge the death of his ally. Formed from the same ice he was made of, the atronach materialized an ice scimitar in his right hand and an ice tower shield in his left. Accepting his offer for a _sword_ duel, I strapped Blunderbuss upon my back and unsheathed my daedric long sword. I began the attack. I charged the daedra at full speed, the sword grasped tight in my hands, prepared to thrust the blade into its stomach. The Frost Atronach held his tower shield between himself and I in an attempt to block the attack. At first, it succeeded, halting the momentum of the initial strike. However, still using my strength and pressing the sword against the shield, I channeled the heat of a fire spell into the blade of the sword. The metal blade turned a bright, glowing orange and the shield was quickly melted, turning it into a puddle of water at out feet. The atronach attempted to make a rebuttal, making a swing at me with his frozen sword, but I dodged the swing and with one final blow, trusted the scorching blade through his icy head. The frost atronach died instantly and turned into water, which was quickly absorbed into the parched ground below.

Now, only the Storm Atronach was left, the most powerful of them all. With the sword still in hand, I charged the daedra. The atronach attempted to halt me by firing a bolt of lightning at me, but I dodged it at the last moment. However, regretfully, the lightning bolt continued onward and struck the first line of defense in the Orc formation. The blast sent many soldiers flying lifelessly into the sky. Before I could retaliate with a cleave of my sword, the daedra grasped me by the neck with its giant, stone hand and threw me against the jagged mountain side.

"You fool," said the Frost Atronach, his voice deep and of pure evil, "unlike my brethren, I have _no_ weakness."

Slowly getting to my feet, I laughed. "I need not a weakness to defeat you," I replied. Unholstering the two, double-barreled shotguns with lightening speed, I charged the daedra once more. It sent another lightning bolt in my direction, but I jumped high over it, and with the two guns aimed at the atronach's head, I pulled all four triggers in perfect unison, releasing a metal storm of deadric buckshot into the Frost Atronach's head. Fatally wounded, the daedra crumbled into boulders and tumbled down the mountain side.

Reloading both the double-barreled shotguns, a massive explosion sounded from the opposite end of the bridge. The blast was so great, it began to demolish the bridge, section by section, each section falling into the seemingly bottomless chasm below. "Quickly, men," I yelled at the very top of my lungs, "to the other side of the bridge!" The soldiers ran as fast as they possibly could (struggling to run with their heavy sets of armor. Unfortunately, most of their effore was for not. The collapse of the bridge eventually caught up with them, and many Orcs fell to their deaths.

"Shit!" I exclaimed. "I need another head count!"

After a few minutes, when the tallying was complete, a nameless soldier approached. "We have but one hundred and two remaining, Sir," he said with anger in his voice.

I simply could not believe it. One hundred eleven soldiers died in that very incident.

"You are not doing a very good job at keeping your men alive," said the Orc.

"It is not my intent to do so!" I replied. "Watch your tongue, soldier and mind who you are talking _back_ to."

"And what are you to do about it," he retorted.

I wanted to kill him, to make an example of him. I wanted to shoot him in his big, ugly, green face right then and there... but I did not. I feared that _nothing_ would help the situation we were in. The only thing we _could _do was to press forward, into the wind and ash of this living hell.

We continued to circle the volcano's perimeter for another hour or so until we finally faced West. "Sunder is directly ahead," I said to the men… not that they were listening to me at this point. Soon after I said this, we reached the Dwemer ruin of Vemynal. As opposed to the ruins before, this fortress seemed strangely dormant: no smoke rose from the tall chimneys.

Turning to my men, I ordered them to "Remain here."

"-And leave us to the slaughter," finished one of the Orcs, "is that it?"

I did not dignify that statement with a reply. Instead, I merely entered the ruin alone.

o0o

There was an eire silence within Vemynal. No longer was I bombarded with the constant sound of machinery, the grinding of gears, or the sound of centurions. The gears that covered the walls were no longer turning for reasons unknown. A single, slender hallway lead to another door. Walking slowly through the dimly lit corridor, the only noise that could be heard was that of my own footsteps.

Stepping into the next room, I was instantly bathed on all sides by the powerful light of the strange Dwemer creation (creations I began to call "light bulbs"). Allowing my eyes to adjust to the white wash, I found myself surrounded on all sides by tall barriers, over twenty feet tall, with coliseum like seating situated above. Huge colorful banners, now old and faded, hung down from the ceiling. The floor was of soft sand. Taking another step into this large place, I felt my foot fall upon something solid. Unearthing it, I was shocked to find that it was a human skull. Suddenly, I knew in an instant where I was.

"This is an arena!" I said out loud.

Suddenly, the ground shook beneath me as if there was an earthquake. The sound of turning gears and machinery once again began to flood my ears. Suddenly, the floor in the center of the arena opened up straight down the center. Slowly, a hulking figure rose from below the floor. It was an enormous Steam Centurion, towering over me at an astounding fifteen feet tall. Built into its right arm was a gun more mechanically advanced than mine. In place of its left hand was a heavy spiked club.

With every step it took as it approached, the ground shook violently. The centurion's voice was loud, distorted, and monotone. "I am Mechanos," it droned, "Centurion Chieftain. I have guarded this fortress for centuries and terminated a great number of heroes... such as yourself. I _know_ why you are here."

I remained silent.

"You have come here to retrieve the hammer, Sunder, used by my creator, Kagrenac. I have been given the command to give the hammer Sunder to not a soul. You will _not_ get what you have come here for and you will _not_ leave this place with your life... Zaden The White."

I unslung Blunderbuss from my back and cocked a new shell into the chamber. "How do you know of my name?" I asked.

"My _new _lord, Dagoth Ur, told of you. Your past life, when you were Indoril Nerevar, you were responsible for the murder of the Dwemer King, Dumac. For this transgression against the Dwemer, you shall _die_."

Dealing out the first blow, I aimed Blunderbuss toward Mechanos's head and fired… No damage was done. The daedric pellets merely bounced off his metal armor plating.

"Foolish human," droned Mechanos. "Your weapons are futile against me. I am more superior that you can _ever _hope to become."

Mechanos then raised the gun that was his right arm and aimed the barrels toward me. I quickly cast a protective energy shield before me. The mechanical warrior fired shell after shell in _rapid_ succession at the shield, the nine inch shell casings seemed to rain down from the gun's ejection slot. At first, the shield held up well, successfully deflecting the projectiles. Then, it began to fail; cracks began to appear in the shield, like cracks in a pane of glass.

After many rapid shots, the shield broke, and I sprinted out from behind it, and began to circle the hulking centurion in a counter-clockwise motion. Mechanos continued to fire at me,but the shots missed, leaving large holes peppered into the arena walls. "There seems no way out," I thought to myself. "It needs to make only _one_ mistake in order for me to make my move." Then, it happened: he ran out of ammo.

Coming to a halt, I quickly charged a powerful lightning bolt through both my arms and fired both bolts at the gun of Mechanos. The bolts flew true, and upon contact, the gun was destroyed in a fiery blast, rendering it useless. Mechanos looked toward its inoperable arm as if looking upon a fallen friend, then shifted his incandescent eyes back toward me. "It matters not," he droned, "you will still fall, Nerevar."

Suddenly, the saw blade on his left arm began to spin: slowly at first, but it sped up rapidly, the combustion engine within his arm whirling and winding. Mechanos made a swing at me. Making a strafing dodge to the left, the saw missed me and cut through the sand and thick metal floor of the arena. The saw blade suddenly stopped spinning: it was stuck in the metal. Taking the opportunity, I charged in both hands another powerful lightning bolt and fired upon the saw. With a thunderous clap, the other hand was rendered destroyed and useless.

Pulling his arm free from the floor, Mechanos looked toward his hands, which were now no more than smoking, sparking stumps. "This cannot be," he droned, "I am undefetable."

I strapped Blunderbuss back onto my back. "All things must come to an end," I declared. Firing a explosive fireball at the defenseless centurion's chest, Mechanos was knocked backwards, landing with a thunderous boom flat upon its back. I ran over to it and jumped onto its chest. Unsheathing the blade, I thrusted the blade into the robot's forehead, then cut down the face's entire length. Sheathing the sword, I ripped open his metal face using my bare hands, revealing the brain of the machine, a maze of circuitry and light. Unholstering a double barreled shotgun from my belt, I fired both shells into the metal brain, The behemoth died a slow and painless death.

Cutting Mechanos's chest open, the hammer, Sunder, was found within the center of the machine, wrapped within a tangle of wires. Sunder was a magnificent tool: a mallet like weapon with a square, block head and a golden handle. Slipping the handle into a loop of my belt, next to Keening, I felt a small bit of pressure lift off my shoulder.

"Now all that is left," I said to myself, "is Dagoth Ur."


	31. Dagoth Ur

Chapter 30: Dagoth Ur

Stepping outside into the winds of the Ashlands, I was instantly struck with grief. The one hundred two soldiers that waited for me outside was dramatically reduced in number. Returning to them... I counted no more than _twenty_ left. Even though their helms were enclosed helms and their faces were hidden by shadow, I could feel the anger they were giving me.

A soldier marched directly toward me, his face pushed directly into mine. "I got a few choice words for you, _Nerevar_," he said, his voice audibly seething. "In all my years as a soldier of the Blades, I have served under many people. _Never_ have I served under such incompetence such as _yourself_. You are, by far, the _worst_ general I have ever served under! You have lead nearly all your men to their deaths! Have you anything to say?!"

"... Go home," I said quietly.

"What?" he asked in disbelief.

"_You _are in charge now, Orc. Lead these men back to the entrance of Ghostgate. I shall go the rest of the way alone."

The armor clad Orc stood silent for a moment, most likely in complete shock. Then, turning to the rest of the soldiers, he sounded a glee-filled order. "Warriors!" he said. "Nerevar is to finish the rest of his journey alone. _We_ are going _home_!"

The Orcs gave a roar of rejoice. I could feel the emotion between them; an overwhelming feeling of joy. Falling back into formation, the remaining twenty Orcs marched back down the trail that we had previously traveled. I felt a sense of pride knowing that my soldiers were going to return home.

Now alone, I walked south, toward the center of the volcano.

Drudging Southward, the winds blowed directly in my face. I noticed that the more I traveled South, the more the winds intensified. Crawling up a steep incline, the winds grew so strong, I was almost lifted off my feet. Reaching the peak of the climb, looking over the ridge, an awe inspiring sight laid before me: the center of Red Mountain. At its very bottom was a large pool of molten rock. From it arose a great vortex of wind, ash, and heat: the source of the ash storms that spread the Blight. A path lead into deep into the center of the volcano. A Dwemer fortress was built at the bottom of the volcano's conduit.

Following the trail deep downward into the channel, I was forced to take a trail placed _directly_ adjacent to the vortex. The winds would surely fling me into the sky. I clutched anything I could grasp: rocks, metal, the cliff walls themselves, anything to keep me from getting caught in the winds. Even so, it took nearly all my strength to make my way to the bottom. Standing before the round door of Dagoth Ur's fortress, a sudden chill surged over my entire body. Then, a deep voice sounded from the other side of the door. "Enter." Taking a deep breath, I entered the fortress of Dagoth Ur.

o0o

I was initially taken back by the interior. In contrast to the Dwemer ruins outside, _inside_ was a single steep staircase, the walls made not of gears and metal, but of solid rock. Red paper lanterns hung from the ceiling every few feet , bleeding ominous light.

Suddenly, I heard a deep voice. "Welcome, Nerevar," he said.

I frantically searched in all directions for the source of the noise, only to find that no one was near. "Who is there?" I asked into the darkness.

"It is I," he replied, "the one you seek."

"Dagoth Ur," I said out loud.

"Yes, Moon and Star. I await your visit in my chambers, at the foot of the stairs. Come... let us finish what was started oh so long ago… And bring Wraithguard and the Tools of Kagrenac. I have need of it."

I began to breath heavily. How he knew of Wraithguard was beyond me. I slowly began to walk down the stairs. The stairwell seemed infinitly long: I could barely see its end in the darkness. With every step taken, my heart beat faster and faster.

"Two thousand steps," I thought to myself as I reached the very bottom. Now, only a single wooden door was all that stood between me and the pure evil that was Dagoth Ur. I grabbed the handle of my daedric sword and was about to unsheathe it when the voice suddenly returned.

"Please," he said, "keep your weapons at rest for now. Come to me openly and not by stealth. I wish for our meeting to be one of formalities, not one of confrontation. Enter, Nerevar."

I let go of the shaft... then entered.

o0o

The chamber of Dagoth Ur was a cavern in the rock: stalagmites rose from the ground and stalactites hung far down from the high ceiling. Five, large torches placed about the chamber's perimeter kept the room bathed in light. In a black throne on the other side of the room was Dagoth Ur. He appeared just as he did in that nightmare I suffered: he shared the skin of a Dunmer but stood over seven feet tall. He sported long, dagger like fingernails that were sharpened to a razor-like edge. A round golden mask covered his face.

He slowly stood up from his seat and slowly approached. "So it began here," he said, "and so it shall _end_ here. It has been a long time since we last spoke, Nerevar. I began to think you would _never _show... but here you stand before me, on this day of days. I must say, Nerevar, I have watched you ever since you arrived here to Vvardenfell and, I must admit, you have surpassed all expectations I have had of you. Nearly all I have sent at you... you have seemed to vanquish with the slightest of efforts: the bandits, the Dremora at Molag Mar, my top assassin at The Tree of Dawn... I must say, I am almost... _elated_ to be in your presence."

"Enough talk!" I interrupted. "You _know_ why I am here!"

"... That I do, Nerevar… Fear not. Your inevitable death shall come, so let us not rush into such things just yet. But for now... I have questions that I wish to voice to you."

Just as Vivec had foretold, questions are proposed. "Asked away," I said, "and I shall answer."

"My first question is thus: 'Are you _truly _Nerevar Reborn.'"

At first, I thought this a queer question to ask. Then, I remembered to the words of Vivec: Dagoth Ur will try to deceive me, to plant seeds of doubt within me. If I were to answer his queries, I had to keep a clear and level mind.

"By the will of the gods," I finally replied, "I _am _Nerevar Incarnate."

Because of his mask, I only had his words to read his reaction from. "Foolhardy," he said. "You _still _hold true to these false prophesies? You are more of a fool than I had previously thought, Nerevar. You would follow these flase teachings to your grave-"

"Enough!" I interjected. "If that is your only question-"

"Not quite," said Dagoth Ur. "There is more that needs to be asked.

My _second _question is thus: 'If, in the implausible event that you _do _win this battle, what would your plans be for the Heart? Would you make yourself a god, just as I have? Would you complete the construction of Akulakhan and forever more impose your wrath against the mongrel dogs of the Imperial Empire? Or, perhaps, would you share the power of the Heart, just as I have, and turn the populous into the recipients of the Corprus?"

"Is that what you mission has been all these centuries?" I asked Dagoth Ur. "To rid Tamriel of the Empire?"

"At first, no," he replied. "I initially vied for the Heart's power, pure and simple. Then, when said power was bestowed upon me, I slowly formed a hatred of the Empire. Surely you (regardless of the fact that you are Imperial) have seen the pain the Empire has brought. The Imperial Empire is a power hungry beast, whose insatiable appetite would bring about the end of what we see as independence. The Dunmer have know this, _I _have known this, and I have a feeling that, in time, _you _will become aware of their evil.

But more onto the point, you have yet to answer my question: What would you do with the Heart?"

In truth, my only intent was to destroy it… but Dagoth Ur could _not _know of that. As I thought over the options he gave, I found each unpleasant in my eyes: I did not wish to ever become a god, I had not _true _gripe with the Empire, and I wished not to further spread the Corprus.

"I have my own _special _plans for the heart," I finally replied.

Dagoth Ur gave a queried hum, the sort of hum one gives from intense study. "Peculiar," Dagoth Ur replied. "Perhaps there _are _hidden motives behind your words. Perhaps there are unforeseen plans in store for Tamriel… Or perhaps you are nothing more than an insatiable bluff who is merely trying to give a reply when there is truly not a reply _at all_… At any rate, I shall respect your answer (or lack thereof.)

Now, my _third _and _final _question is thus: 'Were I to give onto you one last chance to join me, to pledge your servitude to me by offering the Tools of Kagrenac and Wraithguard as a peace offering, would you do so?"

"… Never," I replied. "Never would I join the likes of _you_, Dagoth Ur!"

"… How so?" he asked, as if actually curious to the reason.

"Because you are the scum of Nirn. You have brought upon Vvardenfell an unspeakable evil, an evil that should never go unpunished! It is because of you," I said, "that the Dwemer are _dead_!"

Dagoth Ur stood silent for a moment… then began to laugh. "Foolish Vivec," he muttered to himself, "why do you fill the heads of your pawns with such _lies_."

"What are you muddering?" I asked. "If you are to speak in my presence, speak directly to _me_!"

"Vivec has lied to you, Nerevar," said Dagoth Ur. "He implied that _I_ killed the Dwemer? What intoxicating ignorance! To speak truthfully... I know not what happened to the Dwemer. They were banished to another realm... but not by _my_ hands."

"Then by _whose _hands?" I asked

The eyes of Dagoth Ur's golden mask locked onto mine. "_Azura_," he replied. "_She_ wiped Vvardenfell clean of the Dwemer, not _I_. The gods have lied to you for a long time, Nerevar. I _alone_ have told the truth."

I could not believe my ears. "No... it cannot be!" I said aloud.

"Oh, but it _is_ true, Nerevar. _Vivec_ has lied to you, _Azura_ has lied to you. Your whole life is _false_! You are nothing but a _false idol_!"

"Silence!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, unholstering a double barreled shotgun and shoving the barrels a mere inch from his face. "Speak another word, you villainous cur, and I shall kill you where you stand!"

Dagoth Ur's did not flinch a single bit. "If you wish to turn your back on the truth, then do so, Nerevar," he said. "Now, is you wish to kill me, I shall not interfere. In the end, _you_ are the challenger. I await the first blow."

So I did.

I squeezed both triggers of the gun. Deadric metal ripped through the golden mask and through his skull. His body was knocked back three feet from the very _force_ of the blast. I was convinced that I killed him… but before he fell to the ground, the body instantly vanished.

Suddenly, a large boulder to my left shifted, revealing a hidden stone door. Then, I could hear Dagoth Ur's voice, except it now sounded _much_ deeper, now complementing a demon's voice.

"Your fate has been sealed, Nerevar," he growled. "Meet me in Akhulakhan's Chamber. _There_ it shall finally _end_."

"Oh be silent," I said to myself, reloading the shotgun and holstering it on my waist. "I have heard such things a great number of times, and yet I still live."

Even though I was making light of my situation, on the inside, I was _terrified_. What would happen in Akhulakhan's Chamber was clear to me. Dagoth Ur would exchange blows, but little did _he_ know was that I was not trying to _kill_ him. My mission was to destroy The Heart of Lorkhan. Bringing Blunderbuss to my hands, flipping the safety off, I cautiously entered The Chamber of Akhulakhan.

Entering the chamber, I was instantly hit with a wave of hot air. With the door shut behind me, I looked around. The Chamber of Akulakhan was a _monstrous_ underground cavern, nearly a mile across. A raging ocean of liquid magma brooded below me. In the center of the cavern was Akhulakhan himself, a colossal golden statue of what looked to be a _grotesquely_ obese Dwarf with huge tusk like teeth. Akulakhan sat atop a pillar of stone that rose from the ocean of magma.

Suddenly, Dagoth Ur appeared to my left. I turned, aiming Blunderbuss from my waist. He looked toward the mountainous statue.

"Beautiful," he said in the demon voice, "is it not? Such power. Such magnificence. Would you not agree, Nerevar?"

"It looks like a fat Dwarf," I replied, still trying to make light of the situation at hand.

_That_ remark angered Dagoth Ur. "_Silence_ mortal," he snapped. "You speak of a _God_! He made me the God I am today. He gave an infinite source of power... power with which I shall _crush_ you!"

"You can try," I replied, "but you shall _fail_."

He turned to face me. "Then let us end it," he declared.

Dagoth Ur charged a powerful orb of energy in his right hand and launched it at me. Casting a protective energy shield about me, flames engulfed me, but I remained unharmed. Dropping the shield once the fire dissipated, I aimed and fired a shell into Dagoth Ur's chest… the projectiles merely dissolved against an invisible shield that surrounded him. I then fired a powerful spell at him, composed of fire, frost, _and_ lightening, but even _that_ was dissolved against the phantom shield.

"Fool," said Dagoth Ur, "I am a _GOD_! How can you defeat a god? You have _no_ hope of defeating me, Nerevar. You might as well surrender yourself to my _power_!" Then, with a flick of his wrist and in a flash of yellow sparks, three daedric creatures rose from the ground: they were Daedroth, crocodile like beasts, standing upright upon two legs with bright, glowing yellow eyes. Wielding daedric spears, the three charged me at once. Aiming at the waist, I fired shots, one after another into the grouping. One fell from a shot to the face, another was killed with a fatal shot to the heart. The third, however, I grabbed and threw a hundred feet into the air using telekinetic magic, and he fell a mile down into the magma ocean below.

Turning back to Dagoth Ur, he was inches from my face. Grasping me by the neck, he lifted me off the ground. "You anger me, Nerevar," he declared, and using incredible strength, he threw me against the cavern wall, nearly breaking my spine in the process. Slowly getting back onto my feet, a huge ball of fire, conjured by Dagoth Ur, came streaking toward me. I strafed out of the way to my left, but the shock wave of the spell as it exploded against the wall was enough to send me flying through the air, slamming against another wall.

"This is _madness_," I thought to myself. "He is too powerful, and he always on top of me. At this rate, I will _never_ reach The Heart. If only I could... divert his attention."

With a wave of my arm, I summoned a massive force: over one _hundred_ Lightning Atronachs surrounded Dagoth Ur on all sides. Dagoth ur looked to his left, then to his right, then toward me. "Impressive," he commented.

With that remark, the one hundred Atronachs swarmed The Dark Lord, using their great strength and numbers to overpower him. Dagoth Ur attempted to fight back, swinging at them with his foot long, razor sharp claws, but there were simply too many. The powerful daedra grappled Dagoth Ur and forced him to the ground. "Let go of me!" he demanded. "I command that you release me!"

They gave him no such mercy.

"Now," I thought to myself, "time to make my way to The Heart."

Looking toward the gruesome statue, sitting over a thousand feet tall, I frantically looked around its chest, looking for anything _remotely_ resembling a heart. Nothing. Then, looking toward the statue's feet. I saw a small orb of light, cradled in a metal bowl. Leading to the bowl was a old, Dwemer bridge, connected to a precipice two hundred feet below the one I stood upon.

"That _must_ be it!" I said to myself. Looking back at Dagoth Ur, he was still pinned to the ground by the many atronachs, but he was slowly striking back, swinging away with his razor claws. I had to act fast. I jumped over the edge and fell to the precipice below, using a levitation spell to cushion my fall. Landing softly and slipping on Wraithguard, then taking Sunder from the belt loop, I sprinted toward the other side of the bridge, faster than I have _ever_ ran before.

Suddenly, I heard Dagoth Ur's voice roar from two hundred feet above. "ENOUGH," he yelled. Then, an explosion of pure energy erupted from above, disintegrating every Atronachs in an instant. Still sprinting across the bridge, Dagoth Ur took chase, leaping off the above ledge.

I then reached The Heart of Lorkhan: a seemingly human heart composed of blood red crystals, surrounded by a bright white energy shield. With Sunder in hand, I slammed it against the shield.

"What are you doing?" I heard Dagoth Ur say from across the bridge.

I struck the shielding a second time. The shield vanished and Sunder vanished from my hand in a plume of purple smoke.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" repeated Dagoth Ur, sprinting toward me across the Dwemer bridge.

Sliding the dagger Keening from the other belt root, I cut across Heart's soft surface, cutting deep. I then cut The Heart a second time, then a third.

"STOP!" yelled Dagoth Ur, coming ever closer."You do not know what you doing! Stop this at once!"

I struck The Heart a forth time. Once more will end it.

"I said STOP!"

Suddenly, a surge of _intense_ pain paralyzed my entire body. Looking down, the five long claws of Dagoth Ur's right hand impaled me, entering through my lower back and exiting through my stomach. I could not breath. I felt the hand of death grabbing a hold of me…

No.

Using the last of my strength, I held the dagger high over my head and thrusted the diamond blade deep into The Heart.

_For a brief moment in time... world went silent._

The Heart exploded, a great shock wave of energysent sent Dagoth Ur and I flying through that air, over the bridge, landing with a thud on the other side. A huge earthquake shook the cavern; giant boulders fell from the ceiling, falling into the magma ocean below. Slowly looking up toward the statue, I witnessed the destruction of Akhulakhan. A great crack split right up the center of the statue, splitting him into two. The God then crumbled, falling into the magma ocean, lost forever.

"It is finished," I whispered to myself.

"NOOOOO," yelled Dagoth Ur, falling to his knees in dispare. "This cannot be! THIS CANNOT BE!"

Dagoth screamed in agony, the power draining from his body. A thick cloud of red smoke rose from his back. The giant muscles he once had begun to wither away, turning his extremities thin. Falling flat upon his back, he withered into nothing but a skeleton with skin. Seeing him suffer this much, strangely, gave me strength.

Using Blunderbuss for support, I lifted myself off the ground and limped over to Dagoth Ur's body. He was now a shell of what he once was.

"You have defeated me," he said, his voice weak and frail.

"And now," I said, "it must end."

"... That is shall," he replied, "however, before you fulfil your destiny... I only have but one _final_ request."

"Speak it," I replied.

"…Remove my mask. I wish you to look at my true face."

I decided to accept his request. Bending down, I slowly lifted the golden mask from his face. As I did, many images popped into my head, the many grotesque possibilities of The Dark Lord's face. Tossing the mask aside, I saw that his face was... gorgeous. I gasped in shock.

"Not what you expected," said Dagoth Ur, "is it, Nerevar?"

"Not in the slightest," I replied.

Dahoth Ur sighed, revealing just how gaunt he was. "… For so long," he said, "I held such indescribable power in the palm of my hands. Now that it has stripped from me… I feel no need to live any longer."

"The power was never yours," I declared. "The power was _always _the Heart's. It was never truly _yours _to keep and possess. Under all the curtains of power and might, you are _still _ nothing more than Lord Voryn Dagoth."

"…Kill me," he said. "With the Heart of Lorkhan destroyed... I am powerless. My armies are gone, the ash storms deceased, my reign... over. Kill me, Nerevar... I have nothing more to live for."

Standing on my own, I pumped my shotgun and aimed toward his chest.

"Farewell," he said, "we shall meet again."

With a pull of the trigger, his body turned into a pile of ash. As the ash was blown upward from the rising heat of the magma, Dagoth ur spoke these final parting words.

"This is the end," he declared, "the bitter… bitter… end."

"It is done," I said, and I collapsed to the ground. I then attempted to contact Hui telepathically. "_Can you hear me, Hui?_" I asked.

"_Zaden?_" asked Hui, "_is that you?_"

"_It is done… The Heart has been destroyed… and Dagoth Ur has been defeated._"

"_This is wonderful news!_" Hui declared. "_Where are you now, Zaden?_"

"_I am in the Chamber of Akulakhan… resting._"

"_Are you injured?_" Hui asked.

"_Very much so,_" I replied. "_Infact… I do not thing I can move… I am tired, Hui… so very tired."_

Hui knew _exactly _what I meant. "_Zaden, do not fall asleep, Zaden! We will come to get you!_"

"_Hui,_" I said, "_you have been the greatest friend anyone can ever hope to have… Tell Zela that I am sorry that I cannot return, that I broke my promise to do so…_

_ Farewell…"_

o0o

Waking up an unknown amount of time later, I was surrounded by indescribable color. Shakily returning to my feet, it looked as if I was standing in the very center of a thick, purple cloud.

"Where am I?" I asked myself.

Suddenly, a slender, white silhouette appeared before me. Standing far away, I could not make out many features. As the figure approached closer and closer, she became clearer to make out. Finally, standing within a few feet of me, I became enthralled.

"Azura!" I said out loud. The daedric goddess stood before me, her beauty divine and perfect, not as an apparition, but in a _solid tangible_ form.

She smiled. "Zaden," she said softly, her voice like a thousand angels.

"Dagoth Ur... has been defeated," I said. "The Heart of Lorkhan has been destroyed as well."

"I know," she replied, "and so, your quest has come to an end. The dark hand of Dagoth Ur has vanished over Vvardenfell. The ash storms have ended, and the minions of evil have been banished. We are finally... at peace."

I smiled, but it quickly vanished in an instant. My mind suddenly went back to the fight with Dagoth Ur, and the thing he said.

"Azura," I said, "I must ask you something."

"Ask," she said.

"Before the battle against Dagoth Ur, he told me something. He said that... _you_ were responsible for the disappearance of the Dwemer."

The smile on her face vanished.

"I refused to believe it," I continued, "but I need to ask _you_... is this true?"

"... Yes," she replied.

I was speechless. "Why?" I said at length. "How could you do such a thing. How could you kill an entire race?"

"I did not _kill_, Nerevar... I _banished_ them for their sin."

"Sin?" I asked.

"Their creation of the mechanical god Akhulakhan was the resurrection of a dead god. That is a _sin_ in the eyes of The Tribunal. Upon hearing of the event, I punished the Dwemer. For their sin, I turned their blue skin a pale ash color, then banished them from this mortal realm. I sent them to a realm of eternal pain and suffering."

"Hell?" I asked.

"Some may call it that. In reality, it's the burning realm called The Deadlands, ruled by the deadric prince Mehrunes Dagon. There, the servents of Mehrunes Dagon shall turn their existences into ones of eternal torment and suffering."

"… I see," I said at length.

The smile on Azura's face returned, and she took a step forward, putting her face inches away from mine. "You have done so well, Zaden the White, Nerevar Reborn," she said, "I believe you deserve this,." Azura then leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the lips. Her lips were soft as rose pedals. In an instant, the pain of my woulds vanished, healed in full, and I felt suddenly at the peak of strength.

As she slowly pulled away, I was overcome with emotions. I opened my mouth, feeling the urge to say something... _anything_... but the words never came. The only thing I could say was "Thank you."

She smiled. "No thanks are needed, Nerevar," she replied.

"So... it is over," I said.

Azura slowly shook her head. "No," she said, "it is not over. While Dagoth Ur and his minions are now dead, your life as Nerevar is not _over_. There will be more journeys on the road ahead of you, more foes to face, more evil to vanquish. Much more lies ahead."

I lowered my head in disappointment. "I see."

Azura then placed her fingers under my chin and slowly propped up my head, putting it at eye level once again. "But for now," she said, "your strength is to be put into your... personal affairs. Let this time forward, until you are called upon again, be a time of _peace_ for you. Now go," she said. "Return to your people. Return to your friends. Return... to your wife."

I smiled. "I shall... but how do I get back?"

"Leave that," she said, "to me.

Farewell, Nerevar... We shall meet again."

o0o

There was a eire silence over the Pilgrimage. There was not much in the way of idle talk amongst the crowd. Rather, nearly all waited anxiously for the return of Nerevar. It had been nearly eighteen hours since he entered the confines of the Ghostgate and so far not a word of either success or failure had returned from within. Some began to think that Nerevar had failed.

Suddenly, the gate of the Ghostgate rose open. Everyone in attendance rose to their feet, including the friends of Nerevar: the Argonian wizard, Hui, and the Dunmer nobleman, Varon Varvur. From the shadow of the now open archway, the figure of a man, clad in white, appeared. Everyone stood silently and motionless, waiting for a decree from the figure.

Then, reaching intro his brown messenger bag, the man of white retrieved a golden object and held it high above his head.

It was the mask of Dagoth Ur.

Nerevar was victorious.

o0o

As I approached the now roaring congregation, Hui and Varon were the first to approach, greeting me with warm embrace and immeasurable enthusiasm.

"Zaden," exclaimed Hui as he hugged me, "you have returned!"

"Of course I returned," I replied jokingly, "why would I not?"

"Well," said Varon, "when Hui told me of what you said to Hui telepathically, we feared that you were slipping away… and judging from the condition of the soldiers of the Holy Army… we feared the absolute worst."

"What do you mean by the 'condition of the soldiers?'" I asked.

"... Only one returned," said Hui.

Shit. "Where is he now?" I asked. "Is he all right?"

Hui responded. "He is currently recovering in a medical tent to our right. He returned to us hanging by a single life thread."

"I am just thankful that he is alive," I said.

I pushed my way through the crowd, making my way East, toward a tent clustering. Searching through the maze, I finally came across the medical tent in question, clearly marked with white canvas and a red cross painted on the side. Stepping inside, the single Orc laid atop a medical cot, most of his body fully bandaged. Pulling up a chair, I took a seat by his bedside.

"Soldier," I said, "are you awake?"

The orc stirred, slowly opening his black eyes, turning to look at me. "_You_," he said in almost a whisper.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"How the _fuck_ do you think I am feeling?… Sir."

"Not good, I assume."

"I have been better," he said, turning his head away from me.

"What happened?" I asked. "What happened after I dismissed you?"

The Orc sighed. "When we were dismissed by you, we followed the same trail we took earlier that day. Coming upon the collapsed bridge, we were all sure we were caught in a dead end. However, we cut out own path, adding a few more hours on to our trek.

When the gate appeared from out of the storms, we were overjoyed to finally reach our exit. As we ran to the door, ready to leave that hellhole... we were ambushed. From our right, atop a high ledge, a volley of lightening spells struck the group. It cut us to ribbons, leaving only _me_ alive. Luckily, though, the blast kicked up a considerable cloud of dirt, and I was able to escape to the dark corridor of the Ghostgateand escape the danger."

I remained silent, unsure that _anything_ I could say would console him.

"They say," continued the Orc, "that you were successful in your mission, and that Dagoth Ur is dead. Is it true?"

"It is," I replied. "The Dark Lord is dead... but I could not have done it without my men."

The orc stirred, turning to finally face me. "Well," he said, "I am glad to hear that, and while the other men might have not thought the way I did... I always thought it was an _honor_ to fight by your side."

I smiled. "Thank you," I said. "That means the world to me."

o0o

Stepping back outside, Hui and Varon waited silently for me. Hui approached.

"How was he?" Hui asked.

"Much better than I expected," I replied. "Where is Zela?" I asked.

Hui and Varon went silent. They looked toward each other... worried looks upon their faces. "Well, said Hui, "she is in our tent, but..."

"But what?" I asked.

"That is where she _always _was, ever sense you left."

"Take me to her," I said.

With that, Hui and Varon led me through the maze of tents to our own tent, the same tent we used during the trek to the Grazelands. It was placed atop a small hill, overlooking the congregation below (just as it was in the Pilgrimage.) Standing silently before the door flap, I prepared myself for what was beyond the other side. To be honest, Hui and Varon gave no clue to her condition, but I assumed the worst.

Stepping inside, I was relieved to see that it was not as bad as I expected. The tent was dark, not a single lantern or candle was lit. Zela sat on the edge of her sleeping cot, gazing into the ground below, clutching an article of clothing to her breast. She must have been in deep thought, because she did not even notice me when I entered.

"Zela," I finally said, breaking the silence, "are you ok?"

Startled, she jumped from the bed, still clutching the article. She looked at me as if I was a stranger. "Zaden?" she said finally. "Is that you?"

I smiled and nodded. "Hello, my love," I replied.

Her face instantly brightened. Dropping clothing article, she threw herself against me, burring her head into my left shoulder, wrapping her arms around my chest. "Oh Zaden," she said, "words cannot express how relieved I am. You were gone for so long, and when the _one_ soldier returned... I feared the worst had happened."

I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her tight against me. "It is all right," I said, "everything will be okay."

"Did you kill him?" asked Zela.

I nodded. "I did. Nevermore will his dark hand reach across Vvardenfell."

"Thank Azura," she said. "Our journeys are finally over."

_Now_ was the time to ask.

Zela," I said, still holding her in my arms, "there is something I _must_ ask you."

Releasing her head from my shoulder, she looked up with her beautiful red eyes into mine. "What is it?" she asked.

"I have known you for what seems forever... and I want to spend the rest of my life with you... Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she replied, "of course I will."


	32. Departure

Chapter 32: Departure

The wedding was as perfect as I could have asked for.

With the good graces of the Mages Guild, the Arch-Mage allowed the use of his estate for the ceremony. Under the influence of his magic, he altered the cherry blossoms of his estate to produce their rose colored pedals (even four months or so after the correct season.)

Many were in attendance on that most joyous of days. I invited a select few from the Balmora Fighters Guild, including Eydis Fire-Eye. Hui invited friends from the Mages Guild as well. Also, much to the surprise of Varon, Zela, Hui, and I, Zela's parents, Llondresa and Gothren, traveled from the Bitter Coast region in order to attend their daughter's wedding.

As was customary, I was not allowed to look upon my bride for two days previous until the wedding itself. During that time, I often speculated as to how Zela would dress on that most important of days, that, for whatever reason, she would decide to back down. In the end, the worry was for not.

On the day of our wedding, as I stood in wait for my bride, Zela made her appearance from within the homestead of the Arch-Mage. When those sliding wood framed doors slid open, I felt as if my heart skipped a beat. Zela appeared more beautiful than she had ever before and, for that day, she was even _more _beautiful than _Azura_.

Zela walked down the asle with the grace of an angel that day, wearing a wedding gown woven with the finest white silk. A semi-translucent vial hid her face. Her beauty almost brought me to tears. _Nothing_ about her could be more perfect.

In place of a long winded ceremony, Zela and I opted for a simple reading of the vows. I shall not go into immense detail, but needless to say, when the vows were dictated to us, without hesitation, we both replied "I do."

With a single kiss, our promise to be together forever was sealed, and in that very moment, my world was _perfect_.

Seven Months Later...

Hui, Varon, Zela, and I trotted along the southward trail atop our horses. Nearing the time of two hours until mid-day, the morning fog began it hasty retreat. Behind us followed three Guar driven carts, filled with the possessions of our home in Balmora. The sound of the caravan's clattering wheels filled the air with noise pollution. Near one point of our journey, we came upon a post in the ground with three road signs. One sign pointed to the trail that lead North, "Balmora." Another pointed to the trail that lead East, "Vivec." The final sign pointed down the trail we were currently on, a trail that winded South, "Seyda Neen."

"Continue South," I announced to the caravan.

After many months, I was finally returning to my place of origin, where I arrived on this island of Vvardenfell: the village of Seyda Neen. Ever since my first day in Vvardenfell, I had yet to return to this place. As we followed the dirt trail, I quietly wondered to myself if Seyda Neen had changed in my absence.

As it were, it did not change in the _slightest_.

Seyda Neen was still the decrepit little village I had remembered.

As we entered Seyda Neen's boundries, I looked behind me to witness an inquisitive look upon Zela's face.

"This place is rather… unique," joked Zela.

"If by 'unique'," I replied, "you mean dilapidated, than yes, Seyda Neen is _very _unique."

Hui gave a sigh on nostalgia. "Ahh," he sighed, "this place brings back memories, does it not, Zaden? Such is the place of our first meeting, and now, it shall be your place of departure."

"If I may ask," added Varon, "where do we depart from, exactly?"

"From the Census and Excise complet, located by the water's edge. There, the ship should be docked and ready… but before we leave, there is one thing that I feel I must do."

"What is that?" asked Zela.

"I have a meeting with the proprietor of a certain tea shop," I replied.

o0o

Dismounting our steeds and hitching them to a post that seemed ready to break at any moment, I entered the quaint little tea shop with Zela, Hui, and Varon following in that exact order. As we entered and shut the door behind us, the Dunmer female server (the very same one from before) approached us.

"Greetings," she said with a smile, "a table for four, I presume?"

"Yes," I replied with a nod, "and we would like a kettle of the finest tea you serve."

The waitress was about to turn back toward to the kitchen to shout our order when (just as I hoped) a twinkle of rememberence seemed to shimmer in her eyes. "You know, stranger," she said to me, "for some reason, you strike me familiar. Have we ever met before?"

"Indeed we have," I replied. "The last time I entered this shop, the proprietors had me _literally _thrown out. I believe the reason for doing so was because… I was 'N'wah.'"

As luck would have it, the memories of her past came flooding back to her and, in an instant, her face turned livid. Without seating us, she quickly ran to the kitchen and when she returned a moment later, the owner of the shop was with her.

"_You_," said the fat male Dunmer, "I remember _you_. I threw you out of my shop, did I not?" I nodded. "So, have you come back for revenge? Brought friends to instigate such notions?"

"No," I replied with a grin, "just to purchase some tea, is all"

"Well you will receive no such hospitality from me! As I see it, you are _still _not wanted in _my _shop! If you will not leave, I will still have no problem forcibly removing you _and _your friends from my shop."

Zela took a step forward toward the Dunmer. "Are you sure of that?" she asked. "I would reconsider forcing yourself upon my _husband_, sir."

The rage of the Dunmer instantly reached a new height. "Are you intent on getting yourself murdered by my hands, Imperial?!" he snapped.

"Perhaps," added Hui, "you should reconsider such a course of action, especially when you learn of my friend's _title_."

"What title is there to be had?!" he screamed. "One of Lacking Intelligence?"

Before his temper could rise any higher, I revealed to him my left, where both the Moon and Star scar and the _ring _Moon and Star were located. "_I _am _Nerevar Incarnate_," I declared.

The Dunmer stood as still as a statue for the longest time, unsure whether or not to believe such a claim. Suddenly, with the look of anger morphed into utter shock in an instant, the male Dunmer fell to his knees.

"By the graces of Azura!" he exclaimed. "Could it be true? Are you truly _Nerevar_?!"

"That I am," I replied with a nod.

Overcome with feelings of shock and grief, the Dunmer lowered his head into a bow so low that his forehead touched the creaking wood floor. "Please, Nerevar, forgive my deplorable acts against you," he pleaded. "I never meant to bring harm upon you. Can you forgive me? Please?!"

His groveling was almost pathetic.

"I shall forgive you, Dunmer," I replied, "on one conditions. The first is that you surrender all the prejudices you hold dear to. Let not cultural hate cloud your judgment."

"I shall do so, Nerevar," he replied as he lifted his head off the floor.

"And," quipped Zela, "you could perhaps make the cost of our meal nonexistent?"

"It shall be done," he replied, and he quickly sprung to his feet and ran back into the kitchen.

"I think that was somewhat unfair of you, Zela," I said to her, "to take advantage of the man's generosity in such a way."

"What do you care?" replied Zela. "You did not pay the last time you were here."

Though I could have retorted that that was a _completely _different circumstance, I decided to let it go. After all, we were receiving free food none the less.

o0o

With our stomachs full of tea and bread, we finally made our way to the docks. Taking a side enterence into the Census and Excise Bureau complex, we found ourselves immediately at the foot of said docks. There, resting upon the water, was a grand, three masted sailing ship, a ship I personally dubbed "The Kraken." As we rode up the docks toward the docking plank, the captain hobbled off the ship and onto the dock to greet us.

If ever there was a living parody of pirate, the captian of The Kraken was him. The captain, Captian Hasphat, limped to us upon a wooden peg leg, he wore a dirty and stained scarlet navel officer's coat, and sported greasy long black hair, a tremendously bushy beard, and an eye patch over his right eye.

"Ah, welcome, Nerevar and guests! Let me start by say that it be an honor to be your captain, Nerevar."

"Please," I said, "the honor is all mine. I have heard of your past expeditions. You are said to be one of most highly decorated captains in the service of the Blades."

"That I be," he bluntly replied. "The sea may be a cruel dame, but I have conquered her time and time again. Ye have nothing to fear in my service."

"If that be the case," I said, "let us shove off as soon as possible then."

"You got it," said the captain, then turning back to the ship and its crew, who stood from afar and watched. "Get ya lazy asses moving, ya bums! Nerevar wishes to leave this instant, which gives you bildge rats ten minutes to prepare. Now get moving! Anyone who does not do their share gets fifteen lashings from yours truly!"

In an instant, the crew began their frantic routine of prepping the ship. As we surrendered the horses to the stables below deck, the sails were raised, the anchor was lifted, and in seemingly no time flat, the winds were sending us seaward, toward the seemingly endless seas to the southeast, toward Cyrodiil.

As the village of Seyda Neen shrunk the horizon, Zela and I stood on the deck, watching as the island of Vvardenfell grew ever smaller.

"I hope we find what you go in search of, Zaden," said Zela. "It will be rather difficult to seek out your family, given that you have very little to go by."

"I know the road ahead will be tough," I replied, "but whatever the outcome, I will always remain by your side."

"Do you promise?" she asked with a smile.

"I promise.

O0o

Thus ends the first chapter in Zaden's life. Now, he travels eastward, toward the mainland, to his home providence of Cyrodiil. There, he shall search for the thing that has iluded him for so long: his family. Shall he succeed in his quest?

That, however, is another story… for another time…


	33. Q and A

**Q and A Section**

Answering the questions nobody asked!

_**Warning:**__** This contants spoilers to the stroy. If you have not read "Morrowind: The Legend of Zaden" in its entirity, please read no further!**_

_**You have been warned!  
**_

**Question 1: Why does your story's plot not fully match up with that of the game?**

There is one real answer for this: it would have been boring (at least for me.) While the true plot makes for a compelling video game, I decided to add a more cinematic quality to my fan fiction. Could you imagine making a movie that encompasses _all _of the story? It would take days to tell!

**Question 2: Where did you come up with the ideas for the main characters?**

Zaden was, in a way, a characterization for nearly every rpg character I have made in recent history. To clarify: in all the rpgs I have played that offers customizable looks, I would always make them the same: short black hair, black goate, Caucasian skin and, if possible, _jacked _with muscle.

The character of Hui was, in some respects, based off the character of Gandalf from Lord of The Rings: a mysterious, powerful spell slinger who can be counted on in a pinch. Why Argonian? Why not?! Oh, and as far as him being a homosexual... it was a spur of the moment decision. It plays no true role in the story, so I decided to keep it as such.

Zela is the embodyment of what I see as the perfect woman: strong but vulnerable, book smarts _and _street smarts, gentle but fierce, able to sweet talk you one moment, then stab you in the back a split second later (OK, maybe not so much that last part.) At any rate, Zela, with her stunning looks, couples with her multi layered personality and her unique past makes her the perfect match for Zaden.

The character of Varon Varvur came heavily from the character of Toph form Avatar: The Last Airbender. It's not that hard to spot the similarities (both come from royal backgrounds, both are _visually _blind but are able to see through different methods, both wish to leave their lavish lifestyle behind them.) In that regard, I turned the aspect of mana from something one wields to something reminisent of The Force, something that is all around us, something that binds us, connects all living things together.

**Question 3: It seems that Azura plays a more prominent role in the main character's destiny. Why is that?**

Azura was always pulling the strings to Zaden destiny. After all, she _was _the one who declared Nerevar's reincarnation. As I played the game and developed the ideas for my fan fiction, I found it odd that even though you recieve reward from Azura for defeating Dagoth Ur, it seemed that throughout the plot, you were taking orders from random-ass people. If some stranger approached you and said "You are to kill the ultimate evil of this land"... you'd call the damn police (or the guards, as it were.) Now, what if a _God _told you the same thing?

Bet you'd listen _then_.

**Question 4: Why is Zaden referred to as "Nerevar" when Nerevar's reincarnation is called "Nerevarine?"**

_That _was a major error on my part. Though, in retrospect, it does not take away from the story in any way, so whatever.

**Question 5: Why wear white? Does it not make you an easier target?**

Thought that may be true, if you were to run into Zaden, you would _never _mistake him for anyone else, would you?

But seriously, the _real _reason for his color choice came from The Tribunal Expansion. In Godsreach, a one Elo Romari wore the _only _white robe in the existance of the game. Naturally, I taunted him into attacking me and thus, the robe was mine! The robe look so good on my character and it set himself apart from all others, I figured "Why not do so for the character of my story?"

**Question 6: If you could change one thing about your story, what would it be?**

Without a doubt, I would get rid of the character "Miles." God, I regret ever putting him in there. I mean sure, he serves his purpose of bringing Zaden, Hui, and Zela to Ebonheart, but in order to make room for Varon, I turned Miles into this completely unlikeable character who the main characters were _glad _to be rid of. Besides, Miles was a _horribly _developed character to begin with, the worst type of stereotype: the bitcher. So yeah, death to Miles.

**Question 7: Did Varon turn out to be a homosexual as well?**

Unfortunately for Hui, no.

**Question 8: What was the easiest and, subsequently, the hardest thing about this fan fiction?**

**The Easiest: **Dialogue. For some reason, creating dialogue was rather fluent for me. At times, I would right, proofread, and say to myself "I wrote _that?!_" because the dialogue seemed so fluent, yet it was so effortless at the time.

**The Hardest**: Getting my facts right. During the writing, I found myself constantly checking Elder Scrolls wikis, such as , for the correct lore and game information. I felt that, given I was creating an altered telling of the story, if I was to make any _major _discrepancys to what was canon, I had failed.

**Question 9: Is there a sequel to be made?**

**Cyrodiil: The Legend of Zaden  
**

.net/s/5385022/1/Cyrodiil_The_Legend_of_Zaden

It is, as of now, a _major _in-the-works project. However, if followed through, it will follow Zaden as he returns to his homeland of Cyrodiil in search of his family and his past. However, he finds himself connected to the destiny of another. As the title might imply, it will (loosely) follow the plot of "Oblivion."

I _really _want to write this sequel, I really do, but if, for what ever reason I decide on dropping the project, I apologies _profusely _in advance.

So, there you have it. I hope you have enjoyed reading my labor of love as much as I enjoyed writing it. I look forward to any comments and/or reviews you may have of it.

Thank you and goodnight.


End file.
